Sui Writes

Tag: Blades of Ashes

  • Blades of Ashes – Ch 17

    The Case of the Commandery Princess and the Prime Minister’s Narrow Escape

    Chapter 17

    After the Sura council agreed on Azula’s departure, the date was set for three days later. The island was awash with preparations as people hurried to the village hall to register their loved ones’ details, and the military office finalized the list of soldiers traveling with Prince Azula. Others brought unique gifts to the prince’s manor, hoping the offerings would soften the Lyria Kingdom’s Basileus so that he would listen to their prince with an open mind. Sennin managed the stocking of the ship, making sure they had everything they would need even after they arrived in the Lyria Kingdom and headed to the capital, while Alva was busy planning the blessing ceremony with Lasma and Magnus.

    In a strange twist of delegation, Azula found himself without much to do in those remaining three days. Alise took over all the heavy lifting, giving him time to himself. So, Azula ended up in his workshop, clearing up pending orders and planning how the business would be managed until his master, Yaitan, returned from Nerasa.
    The day before the blessing ceremony and their departure, Azula finally finished arranging everything at the workshop. Returning to the manor, he detoured to the dock where he found Ruri and one of his attendants, Bato, fishing. Ruri was perched on a small stool, his arms folded tightly against his chest as he stared at the end of his fishing line sunk in the water. Bato sat on the grass behind him, chewing lazily on the edge of a blade of grass.

    Azula glanced at a sundial mounted in the grass a few feet away and let out a soft sigh. His little nephew was too naughty. He was supposed to be at the village hall studying. Who knew how he had run off to the lake instead?

    “Are the fish catching your bait?” Azula asked, smiling when Ruri looked up at him with bright eyes.

    Ruri got up and rushed to Azula with a happy grin.

    Azula picked him up, taking in Ruri’s excited expression, and tested the boy’s weight. Ruri was definitely getting heavier. Azula felt a sudden, bittersweet ache in his chest; the boy was growing so quickly that he worried by the time he returned from his long journey, Ruri would have shot up in height and forgotten him entirely.

    Shaking his head to clear the melancholy, he hefted Ruri securely in his arms. “You’re getting taller by the minute. I don’t know if I’ll be able to carry you soon.”

    Ruri laughed. “Godfather is the strongest. Of course, you will always carry me.”

    Azula smiled and thanked Bato, who brought him a small stool and arranged it next to Ruri’s.

    “How come you came fishing?” Azula asked as he sat down. “You’re supposed to be in school. Alva will be very cross later.”

    “I ran away because they’re all busy making arrangements,” Ruri said. “Someone is having a blessing ceremony for leaving the island. It’s chaos at the village hall.”

    Azula felt a sharp pang of guilt at the words. He swallowed hard, staring out over the water as he set Ruri down. He didn’t know how to break the news to his nephew that he was the one leaving, so he kept the secret for now, choosing instead to quietly sit beside the boy and watch the bobbing fishing rod. They fished for another hour until Ruri’s small bucket filled with fish.

    Azula watched Ruri count the catch in the large bucket, which sloshed with cold water.

    “One, two, three,” Ruri said, lifting his little fingers as he counted. “Mom, Grandma, Grandpa Magnus, Alva, Uncle Sennin, mm, Uncle Kalas.”

    “What’s this?” Azula asked. “I don’t get counted?”

    “You haven’t caught anything,” Ruri said, looking at him with expectation. “Put in some effort, Godfather.”

    Azula stared at his nephew, then turned to Bato. “How come I didn’t know we were raising a little, pushy fisherman?”

    “This fisherman needs help,” Ruri said, standing with his hands on his waist. He looked at Azula with a serious face. Azula had to fight a laugh.

    “What could be the problem you want solved?” Azula asked. “You have a bucket, a fishing rod, and there are five fish in there already.”

    “But there are too many mouths to feed in the house,” Ruri said, his green eyes filled with worry. “How did you invite so many people to stay with us?”

    Azula stared at Ruri for a minute, thinking about Raithion, his son, Yulin, his general Haedor, attendant Sharian, the coroner Dain, and the nanny who was taking care of a beautiful baby girl called Skye. Ruri had met them all during the evening meal two days ago, and he had been so excited to meet Skye that he wanted to hold the baby on his own. Alise had been sure to tell the boy that Azula was the one who had invited their guests. Now it was being used against him.

    Azula bit back a laugh. “Fine, Godfather is at fault.” Azula nodded. “But which people are you feeding fish?”

    “The one with long black hair—he looks like the king painted in the school books. And then the big one, who looks bigger than Uncle Wolfe. Then…” Ruri lifted his right hand and waved to a spot in the back courtyard of the house.

    Azula followed his gaze and, for the first time, noticed that Raithion and his people were enjoying the sunny weather in the courtyard.

    “The boy, Yulin,” Ruri continued. “His baby sister. I have to catch so many fish for them. Godfather needs to help.”

    Azula watched Yulin chase a ball, followed closely by Haedor and Sharian. He smiled and turned to meet his nephew’s accusing gaze. He sat up straight. “Okay, Godfather is really at fault. I should put in effort.”

    “How will you help?” Ruri asked. “You didn’t even bring a fishing rod.”

    “Hmm,” Azula said, nodding his head in agreement. “What are we to do?”

    “What do we do?” Ruri asked.

    Azula got up from his stool and stretched his arms above his head.

    “Then, Godfather will have to help Ruri catch fish,” Azula said, winking at Ruri.

    Azula turned to Bato. “Go to the storehouse and bring me a large bucket. We’ll probably need more help. Ask Alva to give you someone.”

    “Okay,” Bato nodded and hurried to the house.

    “What do you want to do?” Ruri asked.

    Azula unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned the brass buttons of his coat. He shrugged out of the heavy garment with one swift motion. He removed his boots and socks, then glanced at Ruri, only to find the boy sitting on the stool trying to remove his shoes too.

    “Not you,” Azula said, placing his coat next to Ruri. “I need you to guard the fish and make sure we have enough. Also, stay here in case your mom comes. She’ll want an explanation.”

    “Okay,” Ruri said.

    Azula stripped out of his white tunic and placed it on his coat, leaving him in only his black wool trousers. Adjusting the ties on his hips, he stretched his arms above his head for a moment, then rubbed his upper arms to warm up against the crisp air. He removed the leather tie holding his hair and dropped it on top of his clothes. His strawberry blonde hair tumbled down his back, and he crouched next to Ruri.

    “I’m going to dive in and catch fish,” Azula said, his voice gentle. “Your Godfather is good at swimming. Don’t be scared and scream if I don’t come up quickly. Okay?”

    “I know,” Ruri said, looking into his eyes. “I’m not scared. Uncle Sennin says you’re the best at diving on the whole island.”

    “Your Uncle Sennin sure knows how to tell tales,” Azula said.

    Bato returned with a friend, a young man dressed in a gray tunic and trousers who worked in the kitchen and loved cooking fish. He must have volunteered the moment he heard Ruri was fishing.

    “Prince Azu, I can dive in for you,” he said when he reached them with the spare bucket and a spear.

    “Thanks, Tobi, but I’ve got this. It’s a side deal I made with the little one,” Azula said, taking the light spear. “You two, stay here and help Ruri guard the fish. If Alise shows up, tell her I’m fishing.”

    “Okay, Your Highness,” Bato said, pulling Ruri back away from the edge as Azula moved closer to the lake.

    Azula nodded and walked to the edge of the water. His feet were bare on the cool grass, then sank into the wet, sandy soil, and then he was in the lake.

    “It’s been a while since I did this,” Azula said, glancing at an expectant Ruri. “Don’t know if I’ve gotten rusty.”

    Ruri sighed and shook his head, clearly doubtful.

    Azula laughed and walked deeper into the cool water. Gripping the spear carefully, he slowed his steps the deeper he went. Then he gave Ruri a reassuring look as the water reached his waist, and he swam out to start spearfishing. It felt good to be enveloped by the water as he dove under. He loved the comfort it gave him as it wrapped around his skin. It filled him with a carefree sense, and, for a moment, it felt like he was twenty again, losing himself in the depths of the lake.

    ****

    Raithion followed Yulin and Sharian to the cobbled path leading to the docks. Haedor had gone off with Dain, who wanted to see if he could get more herbs from Lasma and Alva in the storeroom they kept behind the manor. Skye’s nanny was in the kitchen with all the women who apparently helped to cook at the prince’s manor. Skye was being passed around the women, wrapped in a warm blanket, her every need catered to before she could even cry to voice it.

    Raithion had no words for the warmth and care that flowed in Azula’s home. He wished they could live here forever.

    Yulin was excited by the sight of the lake. He broke into a run along the cobbled path with Sharian following him close behind. Before the end of the dock, a smaller dirt path branched off to the right, leading along the grassy edge of the lake.

    Yulin took off down the path, his pace increasing when he saw people sitting ahead.

    It looked like a small gathering.

    Raithion recognized Alise’s son, Ruri. Beside him were two men, and two large basins filled with water were placed on the edge of the lake. There were two small stools; Ruri sat on one and then stood, looking anxious as he peered into the lake.

    Sharian and Yulin approached the trio, and Raithion slowed down, wanting to see if Yulin would interact. His son was quite shy when they were in the capital. He had always looked timid when Raithion was around; all he remembered was Yulin clinging to his mother’s skirt as he peered at him from behind her. But then again, Raithion had not been close enough to them to know much about Yulin. But he was learning more now about his son.

    Yulin, gripped by curiosity, let go of Sharian’s hand and ran to Ruri’s side.

    “What are you looking at in the water?” Yulin asked.

    Raithion moved closer, grateful there was a bench he could use that would keep him from interfering with the group by the lake’s edge.

    “A big fish that went in and hasn’t come out,” Ruri said, his arms crossed against his chest.

    “A big fish that went in?” Yulin’s eyes widened. “And hasn’t come out. Do big fish come out on their own?”

    “Mm,” Ruri nodded.

    “I’ve never seen one,” Yulin said, also staring into the water with great interest.

    “There is one,” Ruri said with a sigh.

    “Can I wait to see it too?” Yulin asked.

    “Yes,” Ruri said. “You can sit on the stool. But you may have to give it up when the big fish returns. He was sitting there.”

    “Really?” Yulin asked with wide eyes. “You were sitting here with the big fish?”

    “Mm,” Ruri said with a serious nod. “He likes eating macadamia nuts.”

    “Wow,” Yulin said, sitting on the small stool with his attention still fixed on the water, clearly impressed by Ruri’s ability to sit and share macadamia nuts with a big fish.

    “Then, can I feed it these nuts too?” Yulin asked.

    “Sure,” Ruri said.

    “But—but I don’t have any,” Yulin said.

    “I do,” Ruri said, patting his pockets. “I’ll share with you to give him.”

    “Then you’re really nice. I can meet the big fish too,” Yulin said as Ruri sat on the stool next to him, looking confident, which seemed to excite Yulin even more.

    Raithion chuckled at the conversation and settled on the bench. His view of the boys was perfect, but his presence was concealed by the whispering long grass. He would not interrupt the boys as they waited for the big fish.

    Sharian also joined the two attendants with Ruri, not bothering the children.

    Raithion watched the two boys peering into the lake, wondering what Ruri was waiting for, until he heard a soft curse and a man with long strawberry-blonde hair sticking to his face and back rose out of the water, dressed only in black trousers. His chest was well-defined, water streaming down his skin and caressing along his chiseled muscles as fast as it dared. His skin was a beautiful golden shade from being in the sun.

    Raithion’s heart stuttered when he realized it was Azula.

    Azula was holding a long, ornate spear, and one end was currently lined with numerous fish. Ruri got up and clapped when he saw him. The two attendants brought the buckets even closer to the edge of the lake, adding water as Azula reached them and put his catch into the bucket.

    Raithion was excited to get this glimpse of Azula away from the council and the formality of his station. Remaining on the bench, hidden from Azula’s view by the tall grass, he watched Azula smile as he made sure all his catch was securely in the bucket.

    “Little ancestor, how many did you say you needed?” Azula asked as he wiped water from his face, and then he frowned when he saw Yulin. “I go out, and you suddenly have a little friend with you?”

    “It’s Yulin,” Ruri said, leaning over the basin to count the fish. “I promised to let him meet a big fish. We need another catch just like that one, and then we’ll have enough. You’re amazing, Godfather.”

    “Ah,” Azula said, his gaze settling on Yulin. “Yulin, is it okay to be so close to the lake? Do you feel okay?”

    “I’m okay,” Yulin said, his voice shy. “Are you really the big fish that comes out of the lake?”

    Azula glanced at Ruri. “What tales are you sharing now?”

    “The amazing kind,” Ruri said with a grin.

    “Wait for me to come teach you a new one about lying to innocent children,” Azula said as he turned to face the lake.

    Azula swept his heavy, water-logged hair away from his neck, pausing to wring it out.

    Raithion felt the breath catch in his throat, completely captivated by the sacred tattoos etched into Azula’s skin. Drawn in rich, striking strokes of black and gold ink, they looked less like markings and more like a permanent prayer.

    On either side of Azula’s shoulder blades sat a matching pair of five vertical lines of ancient script trailing down like columns of protective text. Raithion had studied the religious manuscripts of the Sura spiritual leaders; he knew each line was an incantation meant to draw down good fortune while forming a shield against bad luck.

    Between the prince’s shoulder blades, aligned directly with the nape of his neck, was a triangle formed with little boxes and nine peaks. The tattoo’s nine distinct peaks rose in a sharp, geometric triangle like a holy mountain, acting as a second request for safety. Nestled in the center of his back, framed by the triangle and the five columns of text, sat a large, intricate circle. Its three concentric ovals expanded outward, radiating ancient geometry toward the small of his back, where five final prayer lines anchored the entire design to his spine.

    Looking at the sweeping ink, Raithion felt a visceral pang of empathy, imagining the raw, stinging pain of the traditional needle piercing Azula’s skin over and over again. The tattoos were not decorative: they looked like the Sura spiritual leaders had carved a living amulet into Azula’s flesh, binding him to the safety of his people.

    Azula held his spear tighter and walked deeper into the lake, diving and disappearing.

    “See, there goes the big fish,” Ruri said, making Raithion bite back a laugh. “Isn’t he amazing?”

    “Amazing,” Yulin agreed with excitement.

    Sharian moved to place the extra cloak he had been carrying for Yulin on the boy, and as he worked, he glanced at the two attendants managing the fish in the bucket.

    “Can you tell me why Prince Azula has that tattoo on his back?” Sharian asked.

    Raithion almost hugged him for thinking to ask.

    “Our prince became chieftain at a young age. He was only twenty,” the answer came. “It was during a terrible crisis, and we all worried about the fate of the clan. The Sura monks carved an amulet on his back to protect him, bring him luck, and increase his strength. It must have worked because our island is safe now.”

    “Oh,” Sharian said. “But doesn’t the eldest child become the chieftain?”

    “Yes. But this time, we were in mourning, and Princess Alise was severely injured. Prince Azula stepped in and helped out. The stronger one took over.”

    “My mom supports Godfather now,” Ruri added as he moved to count the fish again, pointing at them with a happy grin. “The Big Fish is amazing. We will have enough fish.”

    Azula returned soon after and brought more fish for Ruri, who clapped in excitement.

    Azula grinned as he watched Ruri. “Happy?”

    “Mm,” Ruri said. “Should I help you get out?”

    “Can you?” Azula asked, handing Ruri the spear.

    Ruri struggled to balance the long spear, and his attendant helped him carry it onto the shore.

    Azula scrambled out of the water, his feet bare on the grass, as he adjusted his trousers. He glanced at Sharian, who stood behind Yulin with a small smile, as he accepted a towel from Ruri’s attendant. He wrapped the heavy towel around his shoulders and moved to sit on Ruri’s stool, next to Yulin.

    “Yulin, that full-of-energy Ruri, wants to feed the family fish. I had to help him get some in the lake,” Azula said to Yulin as the boy watched him wipe the edges of his hair.

    “Godfather, helping is what you should do,” Ruri said, looking at him with a serious, pseudo-grown-up look.

    “Yes,” Azula agreed with a nod. “Look at him; he’s a very strict taskmaster. Anyway, Yulin, do you want to eat fish with us? It will be an adventure.”

    Raithion smiled at how easy it was for Azula to include Yulin.

    Yulin nodded with enthusiasm, clearly excited to be part of the adventure. Raithion felt a sudden, fierce urge to step out of hiding, to cross the distance to Azula and take the towel from his hands, helping him dry his damp hair just to feel him close. But before he could act, Ruri came rushing back toward Azula and Yulin, proudly holding a massive fish with its jaws pried wide open.

    “Wow, Godfather, this one is so big! Look!” Ruri laughed with glee. As he reached Azula, he tripped, stumbling directly into Yulin’s space. Terrified by the fish’s gaping mouth, Yulin panicked and burst into tears.

    Before Raithion could react, Azula gathered Yulin onto his lap, making sure he sat on the dry part of his towel, wrapping him securely against his chest while gently patting his back.

    “Oh, did Ruri scare you?” Azula asked, his voice a soothing rumble as he stroked Yulin’s back. “Look, he’s just excited. He isn’t trying to frighten you with the fish.”

    “B-but the fish has its mouth open,” Yulin sobbed, burying his face deeper into the damp fabric. “It looks like it can eat us.”

    As Yulin started crying in earnest, Azula let him hide his face against the heavy towel draped over his shoulders. He glanced up toward the hovering Sharian, right as Raithion emerged from his hiding spot and walked toward them.

    Ruri quickly took the fish back to the basin and returned after washing his hands, leaning quietly against Azula’s left side.

    “Okay, cry it out, Yulin,” Azula murmured, his hand making soothing, steady circles against the boy’s back. “I’m sorry the fish scared you. It didn’t mean to. Ruri got overexcited about seeing one so big. Didn’t you see him calling me a big fish earlier? Can you forgive him this once?”

    Yulin hiccupped, clutching the towel.

    “Uncle Big Fish,” Yulin mumbled, causing Azula to wince playfully at Ruri’s strange nicknames. “Will you be angry about the small fish not moving anymore? Will you be upset with Ruri for pulling it out of the water?”

    Azula glanced at Raithion. An elegant brow lifted, a faint scowl touching his features as he stroked Yulin’s hair.

    “This Uncle Big Fish could never be angry at Ruri. I brought these little fish for Ruri and for you to eat because I want you to grow as big and strong as your dad. So, do you like eating fish?” Azula asked.

    “Yes,” Yulin said against the towel.

    “That’s good news because it was all worth it. Then will you smile for me?” Azula asked.

    Yulin sniffled and lifted his head from Azula’s shoulder, offering a hesitant, watery smile.

    Azula chuckled, crossing his eyes and pulling a ridiculous face that made Yulin instantly burst into giggles. Ruri chimed in, puckering his lips like a fish, sending Yulin into another round of laughter.

    “Is Yulin okay now?” Ruri asked.

    “Mm,” Yulin nodded.

    “I promised to share macadamia nuts,” Ruri said, leaning against Azula. “Godfather, will you help us break them?”

    “Little ancestor, I’m cold. I need to change before we go crushing macadamia nuts,” Azula protested.

    “After you dress,” Ruri negotiated.

    “Oh, won’t we be cleaning the fish?” Azula asked. “I thought you wanted to cook it yourself.”

    “Godfather!” Ruri whined.

    Azula laughed and let out a soft, defeated sigh. “Slave driver,” he murmured affectionately. “I’ll do whatever you ask today. But let me dress first. Be nice to Yulin; he’s still recovering, and his daddy will worry if he falls ill again.”

    “Okay,” Ruri agreed.

    Azula gently set Yulin back on his feet and glanced at the two attendants. “Tobi, please take the catch inside, clean it, and grill it so Ruri can share it with everyone.”

    “Yes, Your Highness,” Tobi said, hurrying away to get someone to help him carry the fish inside.

    Azula turned to the next man. “Bato, watch over the children. I’ll go change first, then I’ll find you all in the courtyard.”

    “I will,” Bato said.

    Raithion watched as Azula gathered his discarded coat, boots, and tunic, rising from the stool. As Azula approached the path, he paused directly in front of Raithion.

    “Your son was frightened for a moment,” Azula said softly. “Ruri is mischievous and didn’t mean to make him cry.”

    “I know,” Raithion replied, his voice low, his eyes tracking the line of Azula’s smooth jaw. “Thank you for comforting him. It’s a relief to see him making friends after everything he’s been through.”

    Azula offered a nod, turning to watch the boys sprint toward the courtyard with Bato and Sharian close behind. A sudden shiver racked Azula’s bare shoulders, prompting Raithion to turn back toward the manor. Azula followed his lead, walking a step behind him while rubbing the towel through his damp hair.

    Raithion intentionally slowed his stride to keep them side by side. Up close, his eyes kept drifting back to the striking tattoo lines on Azula’s back. The gold and black ink caught the sunlight, looking more like a stunning painting on Azula’s skin.

    “Did they hurt?” Raithion asked softly.

    Azula cast a glance sideways, a small, unreadable smile playing on his lips. “No.”

    Raithion’s brow furrowed slightly at the immediate dismissal. In the five years they had been apart, Azula had learned to hide his true thoughts. There had been a time when Raithion could read every flicker of emotion across Azula’s face with a single glance; now, reading him felt like trying to decipher a locked vault.
    Deciding not to press, he changed the topic.

    “Your home is beautiful and warm,” Raithion said, looking toward the house. “Yulin loves it here. And the women in the kitchen have shown Skye so much love than I could have imagined. Thank you for inviting us into your space.”

    Azula settled the heavy towel around his neck. “What about you, Raithion? Are you comfortable here?”

    They reached the heavy front door, and Raithion stepped ahead to hold it open.

    “I do feel a peace here that I haven’t felt in years,” Raithion said honestly as they stepped into the cool, quiet hallway. “I’ve slept deeply, eaten good food, and spent hours enjoying the weather in your courtyard. Everyone we’ve met has been very kind. We love it here.”

    Azula walked along the hallway until he came upon the grand staircase. He stopped at the bottom stair and pivoted to face him, looking into Raithion’s eyes with a sudden, intense gaze.

    “Then, Draeya Prince, hold tight to that memory of our warmth and kindness when we return to Lyria together,” Azula said softly. His gaze dropped for a fraction of a second before lifting to lock with Raithion’s again. “Don’t break your promise and unleash hell the moment we land on your home soil. It will really break my heart this time, and I won’t take it in silence again.”

    Raithion stood rooted to the floorboards, the weight of the warning hanging heavily in the quiet air as Azula turned and hurried up the stairs to change.

    ****

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  • Blades of Ashes – Ch 16

    The Case of the Commandery Princess and the Prime Minister’s Narrow Escape

    Chapter 16

    Azula woke with nervous energy running through him the next morning. He bathed, dressed, and ate breakfast early. After leaving a message with Sennin so that Lasma and Alise would not look for him, he headed to the village hall.

    At the village hall, he entered the office assigned to him and sat down at the laden desk to read reports sent by traders, council members, and Sura Clan members with problems. He worked on them one by one, but his mind kept wandering to the conversation he had with Raithion the night before. His heart ached at the depressing story Raithion shared. What was it like to be robbed of free will?

    Azula closed his eyes. Despite the many tragedies his family and his people had faced, everything he had done was by his own choice, even becoming the Sura Prince. He had gone into everything on his own terms, never facing a villain to rob him of his personal choices. He touched his loose hair and let out a soft, shaky sigh. Even his lack of braids was his own choice.

    Raithion had broken his promises, but he did not deserve to be punished with poison in his home and such a betrayal of his personal choices. Azula’s heart ached at the thought of Ruri being poisoned by some unseen villain. Poor Yulin and Skye. The two children had already endured so much at such a young age.

    Azula let out another sigh and opened his eyes to stare at the stack of green report books. These were all requests to look into the fate of missing Sura Clan members. Parents hoping to meet children again, children hoping to find their parents, and grandparents wondering what happened to their kin. What a mess. All stemming from the Adertha Basileus’s decision to sacrifice their clan for the sake of his throne. Power was truly a frightening entity. Wasn’t Raithion also a victim of that throne?

    Picking up one of the requests, Azula finally acknowledged that he was going to the Lyria Kingdom. He could not avoid it, but it would be truly dangerous. Reaching for a sheet of paper, he started planning for his time away from the island.

    By mid-morning, Azula had a steadier mindset about meeting Raithion in the council. Alise, Lasma, and Magnus entered his office just after ten. Alise carried a new coat, this one the color of midnight blue.

    “You insist on dressing me,” Azula complained as she urged him to remove his simple wool coat.

    “Authority is in presentation,” Alise said, helping him wear the fine midnight blue coat. The fasteners were carved from bronze that Alise helped him button. She buckled the wide leather belt at his waist and smiled as she smoothed her hands over the gleaming bronze shapes on his shoulders.

    She reached up, caressed his right cheek, and stepped beside him so that they could face Magnus and Lasma.

    “Are you ready?” Magnus asked. “You started the journey to save the clan five years ago. Too many things have happened since.”

    “I was too naïve in those days,” Azula said, smiling. “I could have never imagined we would face so much trouble.”

    Lasma took a deep breath and stepped forward. She took Azula’s right hand and held his gaze.

    “Five years ago, on our last voyage from Lyria, I made you promise not to seek vengeance,” Lasma said. “Did you think I was being unfair?”

    Azula looked into her eyes, then shook his head. “No. Without that vow, I might have sailed back to Lyria and brought on a deeper disaster.”

    “Perhaps,” Lasma said. “You’re now a prince of the Sura nation. We are a people with our own identity, home, and culture. You’ve built us up, and I’m grateful for it all. I’m proud of you, Azu. I also know you’ve kept your father’s fate in your heart all this time. So, this time, I permit you to seek the answers you need so that you can let us braid your hair again without you having such a heavy heart.”

    “Mom,” Azula started, but she reached up and pressed a warm palm to his cheek.

    “We brought Draeya Prince with us,” Lasma said. “The council has also arrived. It’s time.”

    Azula held Lasma’s gaze for another minute, then nodded. “Let’s get this done.” He kissed Lasma’s cheek.

    Then, because he knew he had to leave her soon, he pulled her into a tight hug. She held him just as tightly, wrapping her arms around him. He closed his eyes, burying his face into her shoulder, inhaling the faint scent of roses. He hoped Marius would forgive him for leaving her for a time. After all, he’d done his best to make her smile for the last five years. She would have to wait until he resolved the matter in Lyria before he returned to spend time with her. He hoped Marius would not blame him.

    Plus, there was still Magnus, Alise, and Ruri to keep her on her toes. She would not be bored at all.

    Let me off on this one, old man, Azula thought as Lasma tightened her arms around him once, then let him go.

    ****

    The council meeting was held in the large hall where Azula was made Chieftain. The number of attendants had increased; there were representatives from the schools, the healing department, the military, and the administrative offices.

    Azula sat in the place of honor at the dais facing his people. The council members, Lasma, Magnus, Juya, Alvas, Kalas, Sennin, Tanya Nuovis, and Wolfe Silverberry, sat on each side of him. Four on each side, with Lasma sitting right next to Azula on his right. Alise sat in the front row with the ordinary members of the clan. She was joined by the women who worked with her to manage the Doriel residence and other odds and ends. Raithion and Haedor had to wait outside until Azula called for them.

    Azula looked at the curious clan members and took a deep breath.

    “The council convenes today to discuss the many requests sent to the Chieftain’s office seeking the whereabouts of our missing people,” Azula started. He picked up the green booklets to show the audience. “The Council has had numerous discussions on how we should approach the Lyria Kingdom for a resolution. Each discussion led to a dead-end. We have not been able to find a solution that would get us to the mainland safely and give us time to find our people.”

    The hall was silent for a moment, then Azula continued.

    “A week ago, a ship arrived on our shores from Lyria,” Azula said. “Many of you have noticed it and seen our soldiers patrolling the beach at the old docks. The beach has been closed off. I apologize that we did not make an announcement when it first happened. This is because we were negotiating with the Lyrian Prince who arrived at our shore.”

    Hushed murmurs started, and Azula watched as the hall descended into discussions. He lifted his hand, signaling for silence, and was grateful when the murmurs stopped.

    “The Lyrian Prince is Draeya General,” Azula said. “Five years ago, if you lived on the mainland, you would have heard of him and how he stood for the people and justice. The Lyrian Basileus elevated him to a Commandery Prince during our exile, and he is said to be in charge of the kingdom’s armies. He visited us seeking a favor: a request to save his eldest son, who was poisoned with Silver Malice. The request was made and accepted by Lady Lasma. She healed the child at the healer’s cove on the east side of the island on her own standing. Now, Draeya Prince seeks a way to return the favor. I believe he is our solution to reconnecting with the mainland.”

    “I would like to remind Your Highness that we lost our Chieftain to Lyria politics. There’s no guarantee that he is willing to help us,” Wolfe said, standing up to face the audience.

    “Wolfe, I understand why you would worry about Draeya Prince’s sincerity,” Juya said, his tone solemn. “We all remember how Chief Marius died. However, we don’t have a way to make an impact on our own. We still have to ask him to help us find a way to seek justice for our Chieftain’s murder and seek news of our lost kin.”

    Wolfe cursed under his breath and sat down.

    “Then, what will you do if he refuses?” Wolfe asked.

    “I can’t know what he will agree to,” Juya said, shaking his head. “None of us do. But we have to try. The opportunity is here; we can’t just watch it sail away with our eyes wide open.”

    “Let’s not argue,” Azula said, his tone authoritative enough to stop them. “Speculating will not quell your doubts. I would like to invite the Draeya Prince into the hall. Treat him as we would an envoy from a respected nation. I will not tolerate any disrespect.”

    Two soldiers moved from the side of the hall and hurried to the main door where Raithion and Haedor waited.

    ****

    Raithion clenched his hands into tight fists as the large double doors opened. The Sura soldiers nodded. He took a deep breath, met Haedor’s gaze, and turned to enter. His steps were measured; he walked into the relatively packed hall, and all eyes turned to him as he headed to the dais. A room full of Sura Clan members watched them with hostile, stern gazes. It was difficult to ignore the raw, burning resentment. Raithion focused his attention on the one person who watched him with lazy amusement.

    Azula sat in the most prominent chair behind a large table at the dais, draped in a midnight blue coat that shimmered with bronze designs. His hair was combed into a neat ponytail held with a bronze clip. He looked formal, a prince in station, but his gaze remained the same: full of challenge and hidden mischief. He watched Raithion as though waiting to see him trip as he walked to the front. Raithion was sure Azula would laugh about it if he fell, but he would do it later when he was alone.

    Raithion held his gaze, lifting a brow in answer. Azula had to fight a twitch in his jaw to keep from breaking his composure.

    Raithion stopped before the raised dais and brought his hand to his chest, lowering his head slightly. “I, Raithion Maenaer, Draeya Commandery Prince of the Lyria Kingdom, greet the Sura Prince and council.”

    His voice boomed in the hall, polished and authoritative, carrying the authority the Basileus had given him.

    “The Sura Prince greets you,” Azula countered, his voice just as steady. “I’ve invited you to this council to discuss our clan’s exoneration. We were accused of a crime we did not commit in the Lyria Kingdom. How can you assist us?”

    Raithion raised his hands, signaling to the soldiers flanking him that he meant no harm. He reached into the inner pocket of his black coat and pulled out the envelope he had been guarding for days. He held up Dio’s letter and handed it to one of the guards.

    “A gift from the Lyria Kingdom court,” Raithion said. “I present it to the Sura Council as the Lyria Kingdom’s Commandery Prince.”

    Azula accepted the sealed envelope, taking a few minutes to study the royal seal. He broke it and read the contents as the council watched. When he was done, he handed the letter to Lasma. After the council had read it, Azula stood.

    His gaze was solemn as he looked at Raithion. “Do you truly stand in our hall as the Commandery Prince?”

    “Yes,” Raithion said, pulling out his seal to hold it up for Azula to see.

    Azula nodded and faced his people.

    “I will now read the letter brought by the Lyrian Commandery Prince. This is an Imperial Warrant issued by the Imperial House of Adertha by the Grace of the Basileus of the Lyria Kingdom. To the Ministry of Justice, the Counterfeit Inspectorate, and all Magistrates of the realm: I order the immediate reopening and reinvestigation of the Case of the Forged Silver Coins.”

    Gasps filled the hall at the announcement, and excited murmurs began as Azula continued reading.

    “Let it be known across six states of Lyria that governance under our crown demands absolute integrity and justice for all subjects. It has come to our imperial attention that the matter concerning the illicit minting and circulation of forged silver coins, which heavily disrupted trade in our beloved empire, was brought to a conclusion prematurely.”

    “Therefore, by the supreme authority vested in the office of the Basileus, we hereby command that the case of the forged silver coins be reopened with immediate effect. The Draeya Commandery Prince, Raithion Maenaer, shall conduct a thorough and uncompromised reinvestigation. He is issued all authority to find the true culprits, trace the source of the forged silver coins, and restore justice to all those wronged.”

    The murmurs stopped as everyone now stared at Raithion with keen interest. Azula paused, glancing at Raithion too.

    Raithion nodded in acknowledgment, and Azula continued reading the letter.

    “Let no officer, official, courtier, minister, or member of the imperial family obstruct this pursuit of truth. All Sura Clan members are effectively placed under the protection of the Basileus’s office and the Commandery Prince’s authority. Any person found persecuting them shall face the full force of the law. This order is given under our hand and the imperial seal at the Capital city of Genad. Let Justice Prevail, Dio Adertha, Basileus.”

    Azula held up the letter, his gaze fixed on Raithion, then sat as the hall filled with a heavy, stunned silence.

    Azula let out a soft breath and met Raithion’s eyes. “As the Commandery Prince, can you guarantee my safety if I venture into the Lyria Kingdom?”

    “Yes,” Raithion said without hesitation. “As the Basileus commands, it is my duty to protect you. If I fail the order, I will lose everything I have.”

    Azula stared at Raithion, his expression unreadable, though the challenge in his eyes remained. He handed the letter to Lasma.

    Raithion searched for the deeper meaning in Azula’s stare, but Azula simply stood, walked around the long table, and came to stand on the edge of the dais.

    “I have a question for the Commandery Prince,” Azula said. “A question I must ask for the sake of the now-reopened case.”

    “Please ask,” Raithion said. He ached to step forward, to close the distance between them, but the soldiers flanking him would not allow him.

    As though he would ever hurt the prickly porcupine facing him. Azula’s serious face was really too alluring. Raithion felt so delighted looking at him, he wanted to laugh and fight with Azula even more, until Azula was willing to smile at him freely. He watched the way the light caught the angle of Azula’s jaw, his brown eyes, his silky hair; the frustration of the distance between them felt like a physical barrier. He wanted to challenge him, to pull a genuine smile from those lips, but he remained still, waiting for Azula.

    “When I arrived at the port five years ago, you dragged me to the magistrate to report a theft of our ore,” Azula said, shocking their audience. “The thieves attacked, and your legion officers arrested them. We arrived at Genad City together, with your promise that you would take the thieves to the capital magistrate. Now, I ask you in front of my people: where is the ore thief?”

    Raithion nodded. “I took the thief to my father. Thanir Maenaer was in charge of the palace military office at the time.”

    Alise gasped, and Raithion fought the urge to look at her, wondering why she would react to his father’s name.

    “The case was closed prematurely that evening we arrived, so I kept the evidence we collected and the thief’s confession in a safe place. If you accept the Basileus’s warrant, I will take you to retrieve the evidence and the confession before we arrive at the capital,” Raithion said.

    Azula studied him for a moment longer, then looked away. “At this point, I would like to share that I have asked the Draeya Commandery Prince for an audience with the Lyrian Basileus.”

    “No!” Magnus said, seconded by every member of the council except for Juya and Senin.

    Azula finally faced Raithion with a challenging look. Raithion realized that the island’s people were not willing to part with their prince. The air grew thick with their palpable, frantic protectiveness. His heart sped up; he prayed his answers would be enough to convince them that he, that his protection, was enough to keep Azula safe.

    “Your Highness, we cannot risk you going to the Lyria Kingdom,” Wolfe shouted, his voice cracking the sudden, fearful stillness of the room. “There is just no guarantee that you will be safe on the mainland.”

    “Wolfe is right,” Kalas said. “We barely made it out last time. They even attempted to ambush us when we were on our ship. Please, Your Highness, you cannot be the one to go.”

    “Stepping on Lyrian soil could mean your arrest,” Tanya said. “Even if the case is reopened, there is no guarantee that the authorities will not hold you until they can investigate the forged silver. The people’s tempers were too high back then, and I don’t think they have changed.”

    “Please, Your Highness, just stay on the island and send someone else on your behalf,” Alvas said. “You are our backbone. We cannot lose you.”

    The hall erupted in support of the council.

    Azula stood at the edge of the dais, the very air between him and Raithion humming with a private, electric frequency. While his people shouted, their voices a chaotic sea of “stay” and “too dangerous”, Azula didn’t look at them. He looked only at Raithion.

    Azula held Raithion’s gaze as words of protest continued to rise and fill the hall, one by one, his people went on to bring up reasons why he should not be the one to go.

    Across the few yards of floor, Raithion stood perfectly still. He didn’t defend himself against the accusations; he simply watched Azula.

    “I will go on your behalf,” Wolfe said at one point. “We can get some volunteers and go with the Draeya Prince.”

    Then, Azula smiled as he looked at Raithion and gave a small, almost imperceptible wink, a flash of the old mischief that ignored the gravity of the situation. Raithion’s breath hitched, a tiny fracture in his stoic mask. He suddenly understood. This was a gamble they were taking together. Azula remained quiet as the protests continued until Juya stood up.

    “I will be the voice of dissent,” Juya said, facing Wolfe, who was ready to find volunteers to go in Azula’s stead. “Wolfe, I understand why you would worry for His Highness. However, a small delegation of volunteers cannot make the impact we need in the Adertha Court. The prince of our Sura Nation holds the authority we’ve all placed on his shoulders. Only he can demand justice for our Chieftain’s murder and seek news of our lost kin.”

    Wolfe cursed under his breath. “Juya, I usually agree with your ideas, but not this one. Can you tell us how our prince can step on Lyrian land without losing his head?”

    “He’ll be under Draeya Prince’s care,” Juya pointed out.

    “And where would you find Draeya Prince if things went wrong and our prince died on the mainland?” Wolfe asked, his anger rising.

    “You’re his security when he travels; take a few more soldiers than usual and fight to make sure our Prince keeps his head on his shoulders,” Juya said. “Otherwise, what is all the rice we’ve been feeding our soldiers for, if not to protect our prince?”

    “That’s easier said than done,” Wolfe grumbled as he sat down, dragging his chair, clearly upset by the whole situation.

    Azula cleared his throat and nodded at Raithion.

    “Draeya Prince, you’ve heard the concerns. Will I be safe in your hands?” Azula asked.

    “Yes,” Raithion said, his tone weighted with gravity. “I can guarantee Prince Azula’s safety. I acknowledge that the Sura have soldiers of their own. You may assign as many as you need to escort His Highness to the Lyria Kingdom. My legion officers will protect them and march with them under the Commandery Prince’s banner. I will personally support and help the Prince until the case is closed in a satisfactory manner.”

    Azula narrowed his gaze. “A satisfactory manner for the Lyria Kingdom or for the Sura?”

    “For the Sura,” Raithion said, his tone solemn.

    Azula held his gaze for a moment, reading sincerity in Raithion’s eyes, so he turned and faced his council. Reaching for the gold chain collar with a carnelian stone that he always wore around his neck, he unclasped it and brought it up for the room to see.

    “On the power of this carnelian stone worn by a mourning chieftain, on the weight of the lives of the dead and the missing, I seek the council’s permission to leave Sura Island and travel to Lyria to find out the fate of our people,” Azula said, his voice ringing through the hall.

    Gasps filled the room.

    Lasma stood in shock.

    His request could not be protested now.

    Azula was aware that he was invoking the authority that had made him chieftain to begin with. He was a mourning chief charged with settling the clan’s grievances. He had long decided to push it this far if the protests became too much, but having to invoke old grief still hurt.

    Magnus stood too and held Lasma’s right arm as she trembled where she stood.

    No one dared say anything.

    Azula faced the council without flinching, keeping the gold chain with the carnelian stone visible. He had always known he would return to the Lyria Kingdom; he just had not known it would be so hard to break his mother’s heart. Her eyes were filled with worry and pain. He wished there was another way, but he had no choice.

    Lasma took a deep breath, then pushed Magnus’s hand away. Azula felt his heart race as she forced herself to take a step; she wavered and held on to the back of Magnus’s chair to steady herself. Then, she walked around the table and approached him, her eyes shining with tears. She stopped before him and reached for his right hand that was holding the carnelian stone. She patted it and held it with both hands, bringing it down.

    “We can always ignore this,” Lasma said, her voice low enough for only Azula to hear.

    “I have ignored it,” Azula said, smiling at her. “For a while now, but I can’t anymore. If Draeya Prince sails away, we will miss our chance. We need to find our missing people for the sake of their families. Let it be that we tried to find them. We need to do it for Dad.”

    Lasma closed her eyes, and the tears spilled over. She gripped his hand tight and wrapped the carnelian stone chain around his right wrist.

    “Okay,” she said softly. “Azu, you’ve grown up on me.”

    She patted his right shoulder, then took a step back and spoke to the room with a hoarse voice. “Permission granted. May the Sura Prince seek the fate of our people and return home whole.”

    Azula clasped his hands tight and bowed his head to her. “I thank the council.”

    He straightened up and moved to stand next to Lasma. “While I’m away, Princess Alise will lead the council, supported by Lord Juya. General Nuovis, I’ll leave the safety of the island to you.”

    “Yes, Your Highness,” Tanya said, standing to salute.

    “Wolfe,” Lasma called out.

    “Yes, my Lady,” Wolfe said, standing up.

    “I place my son into your capable hands along with Sennin. You must bring them back home, no matter what,” Lasma ordered.

    “I will protect Prince Azula with everything I have,” Wolfe said.

    Alise stood and walked up to Azula. She pulled him into a tight hug, then walked around the table to sit in the chair Azula had vacated. Lasma followed her to settle in her own seat, and Azula clasped his hands behind his back, waiting for Alise. She did not disappoint him, taking over smoothly.

    “It is settled, then. Prince Azula will travel to the Lyria Kingdom with the Draeya Prince to find our kin and clear the Sura Clan’s name,” Alise said, her voice laced with absolute authority. “We shall all support him in every way we can. Small or big, we must hope for him to succeed in this mission.”

    The hall went silent as everyone settled to listen.

    “In that respect, we need to compile a master list of everyone missing. This way it will be easy to track the missing, and we can assign soldiers to Prince Azula’s convoy to match the effort,” Alise said. “I’ll ask everyone here to pass on the word to all who need it. Let them come to the registration desk out front to log names and important details.”

    “What about the soldiers? Which ones will be deployed to follow Prince Azula?” someone asked.

    “I’ll leave that to General Nuovis and General Wolfe,” Alise said. “Assignments will be carried out at the military office.”

    “Will there be a ceremony to ask for blessings for this dangerous journey?” someone else asked. “After all, our sons and daughters will take on this quest along with the Prince. We should ask for the maker’s good graces.”

    “I will arrange it,” Alvas said.

    “I’ll help,” Juya said.

    “Then, I declare this council meeting has ended,” Alise said. “Please stop by the registration desk. The date of departure will be announced in a day.”

    Azula turned to face Raithion as the hall descended into a sea of planning. He walked down the steps to stand before him.

    “You can keep staying at the Doriel residence with us until we are ready to leave,” Azula said, pointing to the people heading to the registration desk. “As you can see, this may take a few days to plan.”

    “I also need to make preparations,” Raithion said. “To accommodate you and—”

    “We’ll take our own ship,” Azula said. “But we can help you resupply your ship if you need it.”

    “Of course,” Raithion said, clearing his throat softly. “Then, I should update the people on the ship on our progress. It has been two days since we had contact.”

    “Oh,” Azula said, looking at Haedor, who stood protectively behind Raithion. “Since we all have to get acquainted, let everyone who wants to stretch their legs come to the island. They can spend the next few days enjoying the fresh air. I’m sure we can accommodate them.”

    “Do you mean that?” Raithion asked.

    “They’ll still be under General Nuovis’s close watch,” Azula reminded him.

    “As it should be,” Raithion said with a wide grin. “Um, yes. I will bring Yulin and Skye to visit.”

    Azula stared at Raithion’s grin and fought back an echoing one. He turned away and caught Senin’s gaze. He waved him over, and Senin hurried to his side.

    “Go with Prince Raithion,” Azula said. “He’s going to bring people back to shore; make sure they have sufficient accommodation at the Doriel residence. Tell Alvas she may need to find a comfortable place to accommodate a small child.”

    “Thank you,” Raithion said.

    Azula reached out and gripped Raithion’s left arm, pulling him close. He met green eyes and leaned up to whisper in Raithion’s ear. “I need to humanize you, Raith. My people have a deep resentment toward the Lyria Kingdom, and you represent the powers that allowed our exile. So, I need you to win over their hearts as we travel to the Lyria Kingdom together.”

    “I understand,” Raithion said, as Azula let him go. He didn’t move away; instead, lingering in Azula’s space before Azula took a step back and nodded to Senin.

    “Go,” Azula said.

    Sennin motioned to the two soldiers and led Raithion and Haedor out of the hall. Azula watched them walk out before he turned slowly to the table where Alise was talking to the council, no doubt starting the process of planning his travels. He hurried up the steps to join them with a hopeful warmth growing in his heart. He had truly not expected Raithion to bring a warrant to reopen the forged silver coin case. It was the most unexpected, pleasant thing he had experienced in a while.

    ****

    <<Previous | Blades of Ashes ToC | Next>>

    The Lyria Kingdom from the Blades of Ashes

  • Blades of Ashes Ch 15-2

    Chapter 15-2

    The Doriel residence felt warm and well-lived in. The great room to the right of the entryway was filled with an assortment of chairs and long couches meant to encourage rest and conversation.

    Alise invited them to take a seat in the great room.

    “I’ll check on arrangements,” Alise said. “Please wait for me.”

    Raithion nodded and moved to sit on one of the closest armchairs with a view of the back of the house. Haedor chose a couch by the windows with a view of the front of the building.

    “What do you think will happen next?” Haedor asked when they were alone.

    “The Sura Clan’s decisions are made within a council,” Raithion said. “I’m sure that is who Alise is working with to arrange a meeting.”

    “Not the angry Prince Azula?” Haedor said with a chuckle.

    Raithion smiled and wondered how Azula had ended up the chieftain of the clan. He’d thought Alise would take over the role because she was the firstborn.

    A woman brought them refreshments: a tray laden with fresh apples, a jug of fruit juice, and another of cold water. Haedor poured a glass of the juice for Raithion, who refused the apples. So, Haedor sat on the couch eating apples with fragrant enthusiasm.

    The wait was long but comfortable. An hour later, a young boy ran in through the front door, full of energy as he sprinted down the wide hallway without a glance at them. The man who followed him smiled in greeting as he followed his charge.

    “What a little whirlwind,” Haedor said, amused. “He looks the same age as Yulin, maybe a little older.”

    Raithion nodded, turning to his left. His chair gave him a clear view of the door at the back of the manor. He saw when Azula walked in, leaving the door open and smiling at someone behind him. His lips curved in a devastating smile that brightened his features. He was still so handsome.

    Then the boy who had come in running rushed Azula, hands open wide. Raithion did not hear what he said, but he heard the tail end of the word: “father!”

    The violent dip that ripped through his heart was a surprise. His pulse froze as he watched Azula lean down and lift the boy with a wide smile. Then Azula kissed the boy on his cheeks, holding him close.

    A son. Raithion forced himself to look away. His chest ached at the reality of Azula already belonging to another. Azula was handsome, a prince, and the Sura Clan always married early. At twenty-five, his family would have insisted on his tying the Gordian knot. What had he been expecting?

    Closing his eyes, Raithion gripped the goblet he held until his knuckles whitened. He forced his mind to stop focusing on the crippling disappointment. He had spent five years nursing a ghost, only to find a man who had long since moved on. He wasn’t here to chase after Azula but to seek an amiable agreement with the Sura Clan. The rest was just his bad luck.

    ****

    Azula carried Ruri into the kitchen to check what the baker had in his oven. Senin followed him into the kitchen, moving to open the drawer holding kitchen knives.

    “I can’t believe you have us dealing with goat meat this late in the afternoon. Had we known, we would have started in the morning,” Senin complained as he found the right knife and hurried outside.

    Azula glanced at Ruri, who was eyeing the baked oatmeal cookies laid out on a baking sheet on the large kitchen table. Azula glanced around the kitchen, and when he was sure there was no one to catch them, he moved closer to the cookies. He grabbed two, handing one to Ruri. He popped the other in his mouth, and they ate with relish, sharing wide smiles. When they were almost done, footsteps sounded behind them.

    “Stop,” Alise said, and they both froze.

    Ruri glanced at Azula with wide eyes; then, he stuffed the remaining bit of his cookie into his mouth.

    “Turn around,” Alise said.

    Azula winced and wiped his mouth, then Ruri’s, as he turned with a guilty smile to find Alise standing a few feet away.

    “Caught you stealing cookies and spoiling your dinner,” Alise said, pointing a finger at them. “Confess, how many did you eat?”

    “None,” Azula said, confident he had wiped their faces efficiently.

    “Are you sure?” Alise asked, her eyes narrowing.

    Azula glanced at Ruri, who was nodding his head. Unfortunately, he had crumbs on the corner of his lips. Azula sighed and grinned at Alise.

    “Are you sticking with your story?” Alise asked as she frowned, her hands on her hips. “One big, one small, what am I going to do with you? No cookies before your evening meal. Agreed?”

    Azula nodded, and so did Ruri, making Alise laugh. She held out her hands and took Ruri from Azula. Getting a handkerchief from her pocket, she wiped Ruri’s mouth.

    “Azu, I brought the Draeya Prince and Lord Haedor to the manor,” Alise said, looking at him for a moment. “Juya has convinced the council to meet him tomorrow morning and have a good talk. I know you’ve been postponing, but we really can’t anymore. Yulin is healed. We can’t let them leave without trying. It’s time.”

    Azula sighed. Were the empires all making a move today? One by one, knocking on the door. Azula shook his head.

    “Trevan is outside helping Senin clean goat meat for the bonfire,” Azula said. “You have a Lyrian Prince in the manor. Are you planning on getting them to meet by force?”

    “Perhaps,” Alise said with a small smile. “We don’t need to force anything. The bonfire is at our home. Our guests can mingle. The council is attending, so they can familiarize themselves with the Draeya Prince. As for Trevan, thank him for his continued business, and send him off. It’s a normal evening on Sura Island. The Lyrians can try our barbecue, too. It’s high time they tried our great food. Right, Ruri?”

    “Right,” Ruri said, looking at Azula with triumphant eyes.

    “See, Ruri agrees,” Alise said.

    “I feel tired just thinking about it. So, I’m not playing,” Azula said, reaching under a counter by the washing area to get a bunch of skewers. “You deal with it with Juya’s help. I’m going to help prepare food and deal with Trevan. You entertain the Lyrians.”

    Azula started to head for the door, but slowed down when Ruri wiggled until his mother let him down. The boy came racing after Azula as they walked out, shouting, “Let’s make barbecue skewers!”

    ****

    Alise let out a soft breath as she stood in the empty kitchen, staring at the open back door. Where did her brother inherit his stubborn attitude from?

    Shaking her head, she turned to look at the oatmeal cookies. Thinking about Azula and Ruri with crumbs on their cheeks, she laughed.

    “Naughty devils,” she said and stole a cookie, too, eating it fast before she headed out to entertain the great Draeya Prince and the Lord General until Azula could gain the courage to take over.

    ****

    The bonfire was held in the back courtyard of the Doriel residence. A large, round fire pit was built upon stone tiles in the middle of the backyard. The fire was lit, and the clan members trickled in, helping with food that was grilled over coals on large grills mounted on the ledges of the stone firepit. There were stone tables all around the courtyard, where platters of food were placed for guests. There was no shortage of seats; if not stone stools or benches, people made do with the stone ledges around flower beds or brought chairs from inside the manor.

    Lamps in holders lined the trees, illuminating the courtyard and the cobbled paths leading to the docks and around the manor.

    Raithion loved the warm atmosphere and the laughter that filled the evening air.

    Alise and Juya accompanied Raithion and Haedor, making sure they had a place to sit, enough food and drink, and steady conversation. Alise talked to him about his work in Lyria, his family, Yulin, and his parents. Raithion found himself sharing about Naeri, Yulin’s health, and why he was wearing mourning clothes.

    Raithion decided then that Alise was a true diplomat. She never once let him feel any tension because of their political differences.

    At one point, Alise excused herself to handle a matter. Juya and Haedor were discussing the merits of the carriage they had used earlier in the day.

    Raithion shifted in his seat and noticed Alvas, who had taken care of Yulin, sitting on a flowerbed ledge a few feet away. She had her back turned to him. A tall man came to sit next to her, holding a plate of beef skewers.

    “Kalas, did Prince Azu get enough to eat?” Alvas asked. “He has a terrible habit of taking care of everyone but forgetting himself.”

    “He’s with Trevan. I sent a platter of grilled meat and vegetables to their table,” Kalas said. “Prince Azu is occupied with sending the general off. We can worry about it when he’s done. I don’t know why he’s so nervous about it today. Their relationship has been very good.”

    “How good can it be when one of them was oblivious the whole time?” Alvas asked, her tone filled with wistfulness. “It’s a good thing we have Ruri. Otherwise, there won’t be a next chieftain if we leave it up to the prince.”

    “Alise and Juya seem to be heading toward a marriage,” Kalas said.

    Raithion’s gaze shifted to Juya, who was almost drawing diagrams for Haedor as he animatedly discussed Sura Clan carriages. Azula’s potential brother-in-law looked very passionate. Raithion smiled and sipped his juice, tuning back to Alvas and Kalas’s conversation, shamelessly listening to the gossip.

    “It will be good if the Princess can find happiness again,” Alvas was saying. “Yemin’s death was hard on her. It was lucky she had to protect Ruri, which gave her the strength to keep fighting.”

    “True,” Kalas said with a heavy sigh. “If the prince hadn’t taken over, she might have miscarried and lost Yemin’s son forever. It would have been a devastating tragedy.”

    “It’s all fate,” Alvas said.

    Raithion’s heart skipped.

    “The prince taking over saved Ruri and his sister, allowed our clan to thrive, and get through,” Kalas said.

    Raithion’s heart didn’t just skip; it seemed to restart, a frantic, thrumming rhythm taking hold in his chest. Yemin’s son. The words echoed in his mind, sweeping away the suffocating weight that had crushed his spirit since he first saw the boy. A wave of profound, dizzying relief crashed over him, so intense it made his hands tremble. Azula was single. He was still unattached, unclaimed, and suddenly, impossibly within reach again. The mourning clothes he wore felt a little less heavy, the evening air a little sweeter. He sat up and scanned the courtyard, searching for Azula, but he couldn’t see him.

    Raithion stood, decided to find him, and get his answers straight from the source.

    *****

    “I’m heading out,” Trevan said as Azula stood by his carriage. The bonfire was still ongoing. “You should head back.”

    “We cooked up a storm for you,” Azula said with a small smile. “You’ve ended up leaving early.”

    “I know. It’s better to be on board as we prepare to cast off,” Trevan said, reaching into his coat pocket. He pulled out a sealed envelope and handed it to Azula. “This is for you. I hope you find what you’re looking for in Lyria. I pray the Sura are always carefree. Let me come visit for a bonfire next time.”

    “It’s a plan,” Azula said, taking the envelope and putting it in his jacket pocket.

    Trevan stepped forward and pulled him into a tight hug. He did not give Azula enough time to think about it. He let Azula go and stepped into the open carriage. Azula blinked, and Trevan was already settled inside.

    “See you,” Trevan said, waving at him as the soldiers escorting him to the docks closed the carriage door.

    “Safe travels,” Azula said as the carriage left.

    Azula stood in the quiet driveway for a minute, his thoughts consumed by Trevan Pearcliff. He felt guilty that he could not reciprocate Trevan’s feelings. Perhaps if he weren’t the clan’s chieftain, he might have chosen to return to the Nerasa Kingdom and live with his master, Yantian, at the Sura Clan workshop at Rewa Port. Maybe in time, he might have loved Trevan and learned to live in Nerasa.

    “What are you thinking about, standing alone?” Alise said, walking up to him. She took his hand and turned him toward a path that led around the house to the back courtyard.

    “I was seeing Trevan off,” Azula said. “We talked. I told him I was sorry for not knowing he liked me. He gave me an agreement that I’ll explain later. Now he’s gone back home, they’ll cast off when the tide’s right, and I feel some guilt toward him.”

    “Guilt is natural,” Alise said, squeezing his arm as they walked slowly. “I can genuinely say that Trevan is a good man, and I hope he will find genuine happiness in Nerasa. He’s a statesman. I trust he will keep to the agreements we have put in place. We can thank Juya for pushing for legal agreements with the Nerasa court.”

    “Yes,” Azula said with a nod, also grateful for Juya’s insightfulness.

    They cleared the length of the house and were now at a fork, with one path leading to the dock by the lake and the other to the back courtyard.

    Azula gave the bench by the dock a wistful look.

    “The bonfire is still going,” Alise said.

    “It is,” Azula said. “I need some time to myself.”

    “Okay,” Alise said as they stopped at the fork. “While you and Trevan were saying your goodbyes, I had a good talk with the Draeya Prince. Raithion’s wife, Naeri, died of the poison his son ingested. Her final act was to save Yulin. He now wears mourning clothes because of her. The fact that she was poisoned at all is enough to tell me that he has not lived an easy life. Perhaps the last five years have been full of strife. Having lived through a rough period ourselves, Azula, perhaps you should hear him out so that we find a solution to our standoff with Lyria.”

    Azula glanced at Alise in the lamplight and smiled at her determined look. “Fine, I’ll listen to you, Princess.”

    Azula kissed her cheek. “Tomorrow. For now, let me spend a few minutes alone.”

    “Okay, I’ll go find Mom and Magnus to arrange a council meeting in the morning,” Alise said, letting go of his arm. She headed toward the courtyard, and he started a stroll to the dock.

    When he reached the bench, he sat down and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

    Thinking about Raithion hurt. He could not forget the picture of him kneeling while holding his son. Alise was right. If his wife had died of poison, what would he have lived through in the capital?

    “May I join you?” Raithion asked in a soft voice.

    Azula sat still, not moving or turning to look at him. The bonfire party continued in the courtyard, bursts of laughter filling the air. Azula did not answer.

    Raithion did not wait for an invitation. He walked in front of Azula and sat next to him with a soft sigh. He was still dressed in black, like a haunting ghost. The only color on him was his green eyes and the gold clip holding his dark hair. How pitiful, this glorified Draeya General.

    “Are you happy?” Azula found himself asking.

    After everything that had happened between them, that was the only question he wanted to ask.

    “I—” Raithion started, then let out a soft, dry chuckle. “I haven’t had an answer for that question in five years. But after your mom healed Yulin, I can say that, yes, I’m happy now. Happy that Yulin has survived a disaster and got a chance to live. Happy that I’m here, hoping to make amends to you and your people.”

    “What about before?” Azula asked. “Before the poisoning.”

    “Before, I was just surviving one day to the next,” Raithion answered. “Lost in a thick, dark cloud that I could not escape. I married Gesi Ajai’s daughter. Ajai is a devious courtier who has spent years plotting to gain control of the imperial court. His machinations even resulted in Yulin’s poisoning and the death of my wife. It has been a dark hell. I was not happy, Azula.”

    “Then why did you let any of it happen?” Azula asked, unable to keep his anger from rising. “Why didn’t you stand with our clan back then?”

    “I never got the chance,” Raithion said, his voice filled with a desperate energy. “That evening we arrived in Genad City together was when I discovered I was to marry Naeri. It was a plan made by the Basileus and my father. They said they had negotiated with Ajai that if I married Naeri, your clan could escape unscathed. I had no choice but to follow through to protect you. There was nothing I could do to change what happened to your father. It was already too late by the time I discovered it. So, I’ve lived with the choices made that day for five years, until Naeri was poisoned.”

    Azula sat in silence, staring at the lake; the waters were dark in the moonlight. Strangely, the pain in Raithion’s voice was as dark as the lake’s endless depths.

    “You and I have broken promises between us,” Azula said, his voice soft. He crossed his arms and dug into the tight knot in his heart. “You need to tell me everything that happened after we parted, Draeya General. I have lived with a muddled view of the events that led to my father’s death for five years. I need a clearer mind, so you’re going to help me clear my muddled heart.”

    “Okay,” Raithion said. “First, I have one question for you before we delve into the past.”

    Azula frowned and glanced at him. “What question?”

    “Have you tied the Gordian knot with someone?” Raithion asked.

    Azula stared at him for a minute, then shrugged. “I have not,” Azula said with a sigh. “Unlike you, my hair remains unbraided, without promise to some unfortunate soul to share my grief and struggles.”

    Raithion let out a soft breath and then seemed to relax into the bench as he launched into a tale of his arranged marriage, of years living in a sea of aphrodisiac plots in his manor, which resulted in Yulin and a daughter he called Skye.

    Raithion didn’t just speak; he purged. The words spilled out of him like a confession, raw and jagged with the weight of five years. He spoke of his efforts to clear spies from Basileus Dio’s palace and remove military officers loyal to Gesi Ajai throughout the Lyria kingdom.

    It seemed like Raithion’s life had been trapped between a dangerous, ambitious courtier, an even more ambitious Basileus Dio, and two innocent children who met the wrong parents.

    “I did not love her, and in a way, I feel guilty for that,” Raithion said. “I’m wearing these mourning clothes as a way to repent my choices with Naeri. I don’t know if it is enough—it probably never will be—but mourning her is all I can do for her soul.”

    Azula closed his eyes at the pointless nature of Raithion’s arranged marriage.

    “The Basileus used you to stabilize his throne,” Azula said. “Your family’s military strength became the sword he used to cut away the rot in his palace and within the military ranks. He used your sister to stop Gesi Ajai’s daughter from marrying into the Adertha House. And he traded our clan’s innocence to achieve his goals. We had no chance against all that planning.”

    Raithion stayed silent.

    Azula wiped his hand down his face.

    “Then what happened to the thief we caught together?” Azula asked, turning to face him.

    “Are you asking as the Sura Prince or as Azula?” Raithion asked.

    “I don’t know why you think those are two different people,” Azula said. “I told you I need to clear the confusion in my mind. All I remember of my time in Genad City is a scramble to find my father. I never had the chance to chase after you or see what you did with that thief who was stealing our ore.”

    “Fair enough,” Raithion said. “I have the answers you need. But you can only get them when we meet with your council. What I have to say requires a direct answer that you can give me decisively.”

    “Why?” Azula asked.

    “Because I’m willing to fight with you to reopen the case of the forged silver,” Raithion said. “Reopening that case will exonerate your clan, which is something I have wanted to do since they closed it prematurely.”

    “How can I trust your word?” Azula asked.

    “Don’t trust my word,” Raithion said. “I’ll let my actions prove it. I owe you for saving Yulin.”

    “No, we won’t place such a debt on your life or Yulin’s,” Azula said. “Saving lives is what healers do. It was done fairly, and you know my mother was willing. What I need from you, Raithion, is a meeting with Basileus Dio. As the Sura Prince, I want a face-to-face with the Adertha Basileus.”

    “What about the case?” Raithion asked.

    “If we can open the case, we will find the evidence ourselves,” Azula said, then stood and looked at Raithion. “Alise made the right choice, bringing you to the manor. There is a council meeting in the morning. Plan your answers well. I’m sorry about what you had to live through with your wife. I’m happy for you and Yulin that you’ve managed to make it through. Please, enjoy the view of the lake. I’m sure Alise has arranged a comfortable room for you. I’ll see you at the council meeting.”

    Azula looked at Raithion for another minute, then walked away, heading back toward the glow of the bonfire.

    ****

    Raithion watched Azula walk away with a small smile. His heart felt lighter, as though sharing the jagged truth of the past five years with Azula had finally drained away the festering anger and shame he’d carried like a crippling weight for so long. He felt a dizzying, unfamiliar sense of freedom, as if he had finally stepped out from the shadows and into the light.

    He was elated that Azula was free. It felt like the start of hope. A small start, but he reached out and held on to it tight.

    Settling on the bench, Raithion took a deep breath, appreciating the cool night air, and stared at the quiet lake, feeling like he was finally looking at a fresh start.

    *****

    <<Previous | Blades of ToC | Next>>

  • Blades of Ashes Ch 15-1

    The Case of the Commandery Princess and the Prime Minister’s Narrow Escape

    Chapter 15-1

    The Sura Clan was generous when they decided to be gracious. Raithion could not complain about the quiet, neat rooms assigned to Haedor, Sharian, and Dain. The food was served in a bright dining room on the east side of the building. The platters of food were brought in by two young men who were kind with their greetings but remained tight-lipped about the island.

    “I tried to ask how the rest of the island is doing,” Haedor said to Raithion when Raithion came downstairs for a meal.

    Yulin was in a restless sleep, his temperature controlled though still burning. Lasma had urged Raithion to eat and freshen up.

    When Raithion came downstairs, it was to find Haedor, Sharian, and Dain enjoying a hot meal in the quiet dining hall.

    “What about Azula?” Raithion asked, looking around the empty dining hall.

    “His sister came in with him earlier in the evening,” Haedor said. “It turns out the one named Magnus is Prince Azula’s Godfather. The moment Azula asked people to assign us rooms and prepare meals, they had a small meeting in one of the backrooms. Then a team of four soldiers was assigned to the building, and they left.”

    Raithion nodded and sipped the delicious tea that had come with their food. The liquid warmed him up deep inside. The gnawing worry that had plagued him since Yulin’s poisoning had eased. The tension in his shoulders eased.

    “They’ll watch us for a period,” Raithion said. “It is expected.”

    “How is Prince Yulin?” Sharian asked. “Is the antidote working?”

    “It has,” Raithion nodded. “Lasma knows what she is doing and has communicated everything she has done without hesitation. She wants Yulin to sweat out lingering toxins. She is feeding him herbal medicine made with ginger, lemon balm, and peppermint to help him break the fever. I’m trusting her judgment. We won’t know Yulin’s true condition until morning. Try to keep the peace for now.”

    “I will,” Haedor said, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms. He looked out the window, which had a beautiful view of a bright garden. “This place makes me want to rest and relax. It’s very peaceful.”

    “Then, let’s take it as a period of rest,” Dain suggested as he looked around.

    “Let’s,” Sharian agreed.

    “What about Princess Skye?” Haedor asked, bringing up Yulin’s little sister.

    “Let her stay with the nanny on the ship for now,” Raithion said. “Have them send in daily reports for now.”

    “Okay,” Haedor said.

    Raithion finished his tea and stood. “I’ll return to Yulin now. Have a good rest, you three.”

    “You too, Lord Raith,” they all called out.

    Raithion returned to Yulin’s room with light steps. The door was open, and the gas light mounted on the walls turned low. Yulin lay on the bed covered with a warm wool blanket. He was clean and dressed in a simple white tunic. Raithion had helped Lasma get him into comfortable trousers and socks after his bath earlier. He was sleeping, and as Raithion sat on the side of the bed, he was glad to feel his hands were no longer deathly cold but warm. His cheeks were not so pale but flushed with pink. Raithion pressed the palm of his right hand to Yulin’s forehead, and almost smiled when he felt the temperature was no longer so burning hot as earlier. It was cooling, though it still needed to drop a bit further. Yulin’s breathing was no longer so shallow that he needed to lean to feel it. He was breathing normally, as he would in deep sleep.

    Raithion closed his eyes and said a thankful prayer to the maker. He had no idea what he would have done had Yulin died; the tragedy was too large to be considered. Thanking the power beyond for the grace of Yulin’s life, he settled in for a night of watching over Yulin.

    Yulin woke up the next morning with a small sound.

    Raithion sat up and watched his son rub his eyes with a lazy, stretching motion, before he sat up and opened his eyes.

    “Papa, I want to go to the toilet,” Yulin said when he saw him.

    Raithion broke into a laugh that brought Alvas rushing into the room to check on him.

    “He’s awake!” Raithion said, standing up to lift Yulin. He pressed his palm to Yulin’s forehead and was glad to discover his temperature was normal. “He’s fine.”

    “Thank goodness,” Alvas said.

    “Papa, I really need to go to the toilet,” Yulin said, leaning his head on Raithion’s shoulder, clutching Raithion’s shirt tight, tugging it to show his urgency.

    “Okay,” Raithion said, elated, squeezing Yulin tight as he turned to the door. “Your Papa will take you to the toilet.”

    Alvas chuckled and led him out of the room to show them where Yulin could go to the toilet.

    An hour later, Raithion watched Lasma check Yulin’s pulse. She sat in silence, her fingers on Yulin’s left wrist. Then she made the boy open his mouth, she checked his mouth, his eyes, and finally his temperature.

    “Alright, the antidote has worked,” Lasma said. “We now need to nourish his health, get him strong again. I’ll ask that you stay for five days to ensure he’s out of the worst of it and no infections start in his weakened state. He’ll take crushed amla fruits mixed with warm water and honey in the morning, and a soup made with astragalus root every lunch. I’ll make the soup for him as the dosage needs absolute control for a boy his age. If he can get out of bed to play, I’ll hand him over to you, and you can go home.”

    Raithion smiled and winked at Yulin, who looked at him with bright, excited eyes at the prospect of going home.

    “Thank you, Lasma,” Raithion said, as she covered Yulin’s hand with the blanket. “You have saved my son.”

    “I’ll take your thanks and urge you not to feel so indebted,” Lasma said, touching Yulin’s mink black hair. It was long to his shoulders and currently unruly after washing up this morning. Lasma turned to Alvas, who stood a few feet away. “Get me a comb from the worktable drawers.”

    Alvas hurried to the table and retrieved a simple wooden comb. She handed it to Lasma, who turned to Raithion seeking permission.

    Raithion nodded, and she got up, adjusting the pillows for Yulin.

    “Sweet boy, you’ve walked through an ordeal,” Lasma said, as she touched Yulin’s cheek gently. “You’re very brave. On our island, elders wish the young ones a brighter future by adding braids in their hair. I see you don’t have them, so I’ll add one, and Alvas will add one for you. Okay, Yulin?”

    Yulin looked up at her and nodded. She smiled and started brushing his hair carefully. Then she sectioned a small part of his left temple and started braiding it. When she was done, she moved away, and Alvas combed the rest of Yulin’s hair straight back, smoothing the strands away from his face. Her motions were just as gentle.

    Then Alvas sectioned off a small piece at his right temple and braided it. She secured the ends of both braids with small gold clamps from her apron pocket, then brought the two delicate side braids to meet at the center. She fastened them together with a third small gold clip, which held the braids firmly in place and controlled the hair to keep the entire style neat and secure. Yulin now looked very cute and neat.

    Alvas stroked Yulin’s cheek. “You’re a very brave boy. May you grow stronger. As strong as your father.”

    She stepped back, and Lasma nodded to Raithion.

    “We made a temporary decision last night. Your people are free to move around this building and its gardens,” Lasma said. “You can use the route we used to get here to visit the beach, but don’t wander to the rest of the island before Prince Azula and the council meet with you. Everything is arranged for you here: food, clothing, if you need it. You can also return to your ship if you so wish. The guard stationed by Prince Azula will remain on the beach where you landed to keep watch. Please don’t antagonize them. We all hope this can be a peaceful process.”

    “Thank you for the hospitality,” Raithion said, standing up. “I’ll make sure my people know to follow your rules.”

    Lasma held his gaze for a moment, as though judging the weight of his promise, then she nodded and headed out. “Don’t forget to eat, Raith. Take care of your health. I don’t want to add a patient after I cured the first one.”

    Raithion smiled at her care as she and Alvas left, and he turned his gaze to Yulin. Yulin looked up at him, and he was surprised to find that the braids on Yulin’s hair looked similar to the ones Azula had once had in his hair years ago.

    “How is it, Papa?” Yulin asked, reaching up to touch the braids. “Did Lasma and Alvas do a good job?”

    “Yes. It looks good,” Raithion said, patting Yulin’s head. “Next time you see them, call them Grandma Lasma and Grandma Alvas. They are like your Grandma at home.”

    “Okay,” Yulin said with a small nod. “When can we go back to see Grandma again? I miss her.”

    “Grandma Lasma says we can go back in five days,” Raithion said, taking Yulin’s hand. “You just got over the worst of the pain. We need to nourish your body so that you can be strong to run after Haedor again.”

    “Where is Uncle Haedor?” Yulin asked.

    “Probably sleeping,” Raithion guessed. “Are you tired? Do you want to rest for a while before your breakfast comes?”

    “No, don’t want to sleep. Can you tell me a story like Mama used to?” Yulin asked, his voice soft. “I miss her.”

    Raithion let out a soft breath at the mention of Naeri. Shifting on the bed until he sat next to Yulin, he pulled his son into his arms and searched his memory for the stories Silveren used to tell him when he was a boy. He held Yulin’s hand tight and started a story about a pirate sailing the unknown oceans.

    ****

    Five days passed by too fast.

    Raithion spent his time with Yulin, who had grown stronger through each day. He could now get out of bed and walk around the healing center, though he still got tired and needed more rest than he was used to.

    “Lord Raith, I’ve brought you a tray,” Haedor said, entering Yulin’s room. He carried a tray laden with a delicious bowl filled with fragrant wild rice porridge, slices of grilled chicken, and a plate with roasted vegetables, along with a kettle filled with steaming tea. Haedor placed the tray on the writing table they had placed near the windows for Raithion’s use.

    Raithion helped Yulin drink the last of his amla tea and then wiped his mouth with a soft handkerchief.

    “Are you used to the taste?” Raithion asked Yulin, who sat leaning on the pillows dressed in a black tunic, a warm jacket, and black trousers brought by Alise. His hair still had the braids Lasma and Alvas had given him. His cheeks were flushed with color, and his green eyes were bright as rain as they met Raithion’s gaze.

    “It’s good, but I hope I don’t have to take it anymore,” Yulin said. “I’ve had enough. I want the sweet milk tea Grandma makes at home.”

    Raithion chuckled and nodded. “Okay, we’ll see if you can go back to drinking your favorite milk tea soon. Rest for a bit before you rush out of here. Grandma Lasma still needs to check your pulse.”

    “Will she bring the sweet berries she brought last time?” Yulin asked.

    “Maybe,” Raithion said.

    “I hope she remembers,” Yulin said with a happy smile. “I like them.”

    “You like anything sweet,’ Raithion said, kissing his forehead.

    “I’ll sit with him, Lord Raith,” Sharian said, standing on the other side of the bed. “You need to eat to keep up your strength.”

    Raithion squeezed Yulin’s left hand, rubbing his own warmth into his son’s hands. It had grown into a habit, a shadow of the harrowing hours he had spent hoping for Yulin’s good health. His heart ached at the memory, though seeing Yulin smile widely at Sharian eased the ache.

    Raithion carried the empty bowl of medicine to the worktable. He washed his hands there and returned to the writing desk, where Haedor was arranging their plates of food.

    “I haven’t seen Prince Azula in the last few days,” Haedor said as Raithion settled into the seat.

    “I heard one of the soldiers at the beach say there are visitors who have arrived on the island. He’s probably dealing with them,” Sharian said from the bed where he was playing hand games with Yulin.

    “Did you eat?” Raithion asked Sharian.

    “Yes,” Sharian said. “The kitchen team cooks early, and they had laid out a very delicious meal in the dining hall. They always have food available in the kitchen when I need it, so I’m full these days. This morning, I had a meal with Dain before he hurried to the ship to take the herbs Alvas gave him yesterday. He’s afraid he’ll leave them here if we have to leave in a hurry.”

    “That’s already a miracle that you’re full,” Haedor teased Sharian. “You’re an endless pit we can’t satisfy usually.”

    Sharian chuckled and ignored his teasing.

    “Any news from the ship?” Raithion asked. “How is Skye?”

    “All is well,” Haedor said. “Dain will come back with any messages that may have been sent from the mainland.”

    “Now that Yulin is doing better,” Raithion said. “We need to repay the Sura Clan’s kindness.”

    “I don’t know how, when no one will approach us,” Haedor said. “Prince Azula was to find you along with his council, but there has been no sign of him. Where do we start?”

    “I’ll ask Lasma when she comes to give Yulin the last of the soup she’s been making for him at lunch,” Raithion said. “In any case, it is time to pay our dues for the antidote.”

    Haedor nodded in understanding and then poured Raithion a full cup of tea.

    “Have breakfast first,” Haedor urged.

    Yulin laughed, and Raithion turned to look at his son and Sharian playing on the bed. He took in a deep, relieved breath and focused on having breakfast.

    As he ate, Raithion could not help wondering how he was going to start a negotiation with Azula Doriel. His handsome Sura Prince had refused to see him for five days. Where was he hiding?

    *****

    Sunlight danced across the shimmering turquoise waters of Port Marius, where a fleet of fishing boats bobbed in a rhythmic lullaby against the docks. The fishing boats belonged to locals and took up one side of the pier, while the other was filled with visiting ships.

    A whitewashed building stood at the dock’s entry point. The Sura soldiers used it to register all visitors who came to the island, and the shipping team used it to track all goods that entered and exited.

    Beyond the building, a road opened into a port town that had grown significantly in the past three years, filled with sun-bleached villas with terracotta roofs built into the emerald hillside. The fronts of the villas housed shops, restaurants, and inns, creating a bustling commercial atmosphere.

    On a small path leading to where the fishermen docked, men and women had laid out their wares for sale in a vibrant sprawl of market umbrellas. The scent of brine, roasted garlic, and grilled delicacies drifted through the air, welcoming every traveler to the coastal sanctuary.

    Azula walked along a cobbled path to a large black gate on the hillside of Port Marius. The gatekeeper opened the door when he saw him and nodded. It was eight in the morning, so Azula clasped his hands behind his back and strolled among the large earthenware pots, filled with growing flowers and trees in the yard.

    The main house ahead was a two-story villa. The head of the family had lived in the Nerasa Kingdom for a year, training in clay works, before he returned to the island to start a pottery business. The family name was Gallea. The only son, Valnor, was thirty-eight this year.

    A stroke of fate struck as the land the Gallea ancestors left their son contained a hidden cave with kaolinite: a soft, earthy white mineral that was perfect for making pottery. When Valnor returned to Sura Island, he was one of the people Azula had supported, helping him build two kilns: one for high-fired wares and the other for low-fired wares, such as everyday earthenware.

    The pottery production had its ups and downs at the start. After all, Valnor was one man, and he had needed skilled labor that did not yet exist on the island. He needed to train and find talent on the island. However, in the past three years, the workshop at the back had grown into a lucrative enterprise that Azula valued as highly as his metal workshop hidden in the mountain.

    Azula did not go to the front door of the villa. Instead, he took a side path that led to the busy workshop at the back. There, Valnor was already hard at work, helping his workers package high-fired vases that had been ordered by the Nerasa Kingdom’s court into large wooden crates.

    Valnor noticed Azula first and left the crate to his assistant to run to him.

    “Prince Azula, you’re here so early,” Valnor said, taking his hand when he offered it. “What brings you here? You could have written a note, and I would have met you at the prince’s manor.”

    “No need,” Azula said with a smile, following Valnor to the packing worktables. “I wanted to see how you’re getting on. This order may seem simple, but it is very important for General Pearcliff. I wanted to ask you to add an extra five vases. I’ll cover the cost of them, just in case.”

    “I’ve already arranged ten extra vases at no cost to you, Prince Azu,” Valnor said. “I know what it is like to ship these things to the Nerasa Kingdom. Luckily, he is using a veteran captain. Otherwise, I would be worried he would sink the shipment at the dock.”

    Azula chuckled at the reference to his first trip to the Nerasa Kingdom. Yes, he had become an example to avoid when approaching their waters.

    “I’m relieved,” Azula said, watching as two men nailed shut a crate filled with two vases resting on thick beds of straw and wrapped in rough white paper. “I’ll send three carriages from the manor to help you transport the crates to the Nerasa ship.”

    “Thank you, Prince Azu,” Valnor said. “Come, I have a gift for you. I’ve been meaning to send it to the manor, but this order has taken up my time.”

    Azula followed Valnor through the packaging section, walking through double doors that were propped open to allow air circulation. The inner workshop had ten potters working at their tables, each specializing in different orders: creating cutlery, basins, or large vases depending on the workshop’s needs. Azula did not disturb them; it was intensive work, and he knew they earned their living based on the number of wares they created. They barely spared him a glance. There was another hidden section of the workshop where potters created sinks and toilet bowls. However, that production was deep in the property.

    Valnor opened a single door on the other end of the workshop, and they entered a large yard where workers were cutting firewood. Valnor’s requirement for fuel was high, so he practically ran a firewood business on the side.

    Azula waved his hands at the workers, who greeted him with enthusiasm.

    “They still haven’t forgotten that the last time you were here, you brought them a feast to celebrate their hard work,” Valnor said as he led the way to a building attached to the villa. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a key to open the lock. Valnor waited for Azula to enter before he followed and locked the door behind them.

    Inside the building were shelves of finished pottery, ranging from common products to expensive wares. Valnor walked to a small table where a red wooden box sat. He opened the lid and smiled at Azula, who came to stand next to him.

    “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you, but your support the year we returned to Sura Island helped my family survive,” Valnor said. “My wife lost family in Lyria, and she was barely functioning when we returned. My oldest daughter had to help with the house. Then, I had to go to Nerasa and leave them alone. She said your family held up the sky, bringing us grain and eggs to eat when we had nothing. Then you helped me build this place when I came back.”

    “It was my duty,” Azula said, placing a hand on Valnor’s shoulder. “I’m happy your family is doing better now. Your wife has opened a shop at the port where she sells your wares, and I see your daughter there helping. All is well now, Valnor.”

    “Yes, thanks to you,” Valnor said, lifting a beautiful white vase with a red rose bush drawn in a vibrant splash on the side. “This is a gift for you. My daughter has been trying her hand at painting the high-fired wares. What do you think?”

    Azula took the vase with a wide smile. He walked to a window and lifted it to the light to see through the fine, translucent porcelain. The rose bush, with its blooming red roses, was like a splash of color on a clear canvas.

    “It’s splendid!” Azula grinned as he admired the piece. “How many of these can you make?”

    “That one is yours and is one of a kind,” Valnor said with a laugh. “The painting process requires a steady hand, and for now, my daughter is the only one who has managed such a beautiful base. The rest can only be sold for daily use.”

    “Ah,” Azula nodded and returned the vase to Valnor, who placed it back in the red box. “Then I’ll take this treasure and show it off to everyone who cares to see. I’ll be happy to send you potential clients when I meet them. Perhaps you can make them as a special order.”

    “We will,” Valnor said with a happy nod. “Are you hungry? There is breakfast in the main house. You’re here so early. Please, allow me to offer you some tea.”

    Azula grinned. “I’d love that very much. We can plan how to get the carriages here so that they can reach the Nerasa ship.”

    Azula spent most of his morning with Valnor. In the hour before lunch, he boarded a carriage with Wolfe and Sennin, leading the way for the three carriages carrying Valnor’s precious vases. They arrived at the dock and stopped where the Nerasa ship was moored. Senin went to get one of the dock soldiers to count and record the vases being boarded onto the ship.

    Azula stood to the side, watching the Nerasa workers collaborate with Valnor’s team to ensure the vases were carried inside with care.

    “How is it going on the other side of the island?” Azula asked Wolfe.

    “It is quiet,” Wolfe said. “The team we have watching the Lyrians says there have been no major movements. The men the Draeya Prince brought occasionally return to the ship to check on things and always return without adding new people. Princess Alise asked me to tell you that you’ll need to formally meet the Draeya Prince soon. It has been five days on the island, and his son is now healed.”

    “I suppose,” Azula said with a sigh. He had kept away from the Healer’s Cove because he had no idea how to proceed. There was so much to discuss, to discover, to fight over. Shaking his head, he started to return to his carriage, but Wolfe stopped him with a hand on his arm.

    Azula followed his gaze when Wolfe nodded toward the Nerasa ship.

    Trevan Pearcliff was walking down, dressed in a simple white tunic, dark trousers, and knee-length boots. His long blonde hair was held in a tight ponytail. He smiled widely as he waved at Azula.

    Azula nodded to Wolfe and changed direction to meet Trevan.

    “I thought you would be on your ship for lunch,” Azula said. “We finished our business yesterday.”

    “The men said you brought the shipment personally,” Trevan said as they started walking along the cobbled path. “I had to come out and talk to you. You’ve been all business these last few days. Now that we’ve finished our business, as you say, I can ask a personal question. Why are you so preoccupied, Azu?”

    “I’m not,” Azula protested, glancing at him with a frown. Trevan chuckled.

    “You are, too,” Trevan said. “I would say you’ve met a problem you can’t solve, but I don’t think that’s right. Any problems regarding things that can be moved, you’ve solved. So, I think you’ve met something that is bothering your soul.”

    “My soul?” Azula could not help but chuckle, too. “Trevan, you’re too much. What could bother my soul, other than you carrying on this ridiculous conversation?”

    “Ridiculous or not, I think your heart is disturbed,” Trevan said. “Which makes me wonder who or what has that kind of power. And… also disappointed because I’m not the one who has such power, as I’d hoped.”

    Azula stopped to look at Trevan. He thought about his mother’s comment that Trevan was in love with him, and he took a deep breath, looking away. He saw that Wolfe had joined Senin, and they were quite alone.

    “Trevan,” Azula started.

    “Don’t say anything,” Trevan said. “I’ve sensed your heart is closed to me for a long time. I don’t think you’re willing to return to the Nerasa Kingdom and live with me, where I can change your heart. I know you belong here on Sura Island, fighting for your people. Still, I can’t say I’m not disappointed that I could never get you to give me a pensive look just because I walked by.”

    “I had no time,” Azula said honestly. “I’ve been consumed with making sure the clan is safe and stable. I’ve not thought beyond that. I’m sorry if my lack of attention has caused you pain, Trevan.”

    Trevan sighed and wiped a hand down his face. “I don’t know what’s worse: you not knowing I liked you, or you apologizing to me for not having even a flicker of affection.”

    “I do like you—as a friend.”

    Trevan pressed a hand to Azula’s lips and shook his head. “Stop. That one is no good either. Oh, Azula Doriel. Walk with me for a minute.”

    Trevan dropped his hand away, gave Azula a wistful look, then turned away.

    Azula watched as Trevan started walking along the path again, his hands in his pockets. He followed because Trevan looked like he was thinking through something, and as always, he did not have to wait too long before Trevan spoke again.

    “I have a solution for your Lyrian problem,” Trevan said. “The court in Nerasa does not want to claim Sura Island. We are occupied with our neighbors and have no time to seek ownership of this island. In time, though, if the island remains without clear ownership, the emperor is happy to take your island as a vassal state.”

    “That would mean our money is no longer the Lyrian denari but the Nerasa Kingdom’s gold,” Azula said.

    “Yes, among other requests,” Trevan said. “The negotiation would include access to the Lyria Kingdom, which would place your people in a conundrum. I know most of them had relatives in the Lyria Kingdom: relatives who still live there, where you have many unresolved issues. So, I hope you take my solution to heart. I don’t want our kingdom to fight over this island. You should find a solution with the dragon you know, rather than try to negotiate with our Nerasa Kingdom.”

    “I’ve come to this conclusion, too,” Azula agreed.

    “Then, I have a gift for you. I’ll give you an agreement that was drafted by my father, the Prime Minister. He said you can read the terms and decide what to negotiate before the emperor thinks too hard about what should happen to your island. This is in case your people decide to join Nerasa,” Trevan said. “Meanwhile, you can take this agreement to the Lyrian Basileus and use it to negotiate for Sura Island.”

    Azula stopped, staring at Trevan. “If I take the agreement to Lyria, it will place you in an awkward position, Trevan. Aren’t you worried about taking your father’s position in time?”

    “No,” Trevan said. “I’m content fighting to keep the Nerasa Kingdom safe as a general. I’m not interested in the complicated political web at court. Besides, Sura Island is too far for them to find and conquer. We have a contentious war with a state in the east of our kingdom, and the emperor is more concerned with conquering there than with your small island.”

    “Or so you’ve made the Nerasa courtiers think,” Azula said with a wide smile.

    “My political clout is useful for something,” Trevan said, facing Azula. “It gives you time to resolve your grievances with the Lyria Kingdom. I hope you’re able to clear your father’s name and gain the right to braid your hair again.”

    Azula stared at Trevan, and because he was grateful, he stepped forward and hugged him tight. Trevan was surprised by the hug, and before he could fully wrap his arms around Azula, Azula stepped back.

    “Thank you, Trevan. It was my luck to meet you on that beach the way I did,” Azula said.

    “I thought it was my luck,” Trevan said, as Azula started walking again and he followed. “You saved my life.”

    “I did,” Azula agreed. “But so did you, save mine and my clan. Tonight, I can only thank you with a bonfire. Are you willing?”

    Trevan laughed. “I’m always willing. Sura Clan bonfires come with the most delicious grilled meat.”

    “Then I’ll feed you a whole goat until you’re full,” Azula declared. “Come on, we’ll take a carriage to the manor and tell Alvas the good news.”

    “What good news?” Trevan asked.

    “That she has to get people to cook a large goat for your crew,” Azula said with a mischievous laugh, making Trevan shake his head.

    “You’re just getting me in trouble,” Trevan said. “Your Alvas is as scary as Alise. I’m not coming with you.”

    “You so are,” Azula said, reaching for Trevan’s hand and leading him to the carriage.

    ****

    At mid-afternoon, the gardens around the Healer’s Cove were awash with bright sun, the flowers heavy with perfume.

    Raithion sat on a low chair on the terrace, watching Sharian and Haedor walk around the garden with Yulin. They each held one of Yulin’s hands, keeping their pace slow as they tried to get him to exercise.

    “He will recover,” Dain said, his tone full of relief. “I was really scared I would fail you, Lord Raith.”

    “I was terrified I would fail him,” Raithion said, crossing his arms against his chest. “As his father, I have too many faults. I’m happy he has given me a chance to be a better one to him.”

    “And Princess Skye,” Dain said.

    “Yes,” Raithion said with a nod, thinking of the little girl still on the ship.

    They still did not have permission from the Sura council to add more people to the island. It was just as well; he did not want to risk his daughter in case there was a dispute.

    “Will you return to the palace after this?” Dain asked.

    “I don’t want to,” Raithion said truthfully. “I talked to my father, and he said I could return to Draeya County and spend time at the family estate for a period. I think it is where Yulin and Skye belong, instead of the capital. What about you, Dain? Do you want to visit Draeya County with me? Or would you rather return to Genad?”

    “Are you kidding me? I want to visit Draeya with you,” Dain said with a wide grin. “On my own, I could never have traveled to Sura Island. You’ve really opened my world, Lord Raith. I hope I get to see even more new scenes. Plus, thanks to our stay here, I’ve collected so many new herbs and learned new techniques from Lady Lasma. I can’t wait to discover what you’re hiding in Draeya. Life is so calm out here.”

    Raithion grinned and shook his head. “Life is always quite calm out of the capital city. I prefer it.”

    “You’re the Basilinna’s brother,” Dain reminded him. “I don’t think you get the choice to ignore the capital.”

    Raithion made a face at him and would have retorted, but then Alise came around the terrace and stopped a few feet away.

    Alise looked different this afternoon. She was dressed more formally in a beautiful dark blue dress decorated with intricate lace designs on the high collar, long sleeves, and long skirt. She wore steady black boots, and her hair was braided tightly with gold pins holding it in place. She smiled at Raithion when he stood up and approached her.

    “Draeya Prince, sorry to interrupt your quiet afternoon,” Alise said. “How is Yulin doing?”

    “He is well; his health has improved thanks to Lady Lasma,” Raithion said with a smile. “I’m very grateful to your people for helping him.”

    “Then that is good news,” Alise said. “I have no other way but to jump right in. Our island has many grievances with the Lyria Kingdom, none of which can be easily resolved. Do we agree?”

    “Yes,” Raithion said.

    “If you’re on this island, it is because you had a solution to these grievances that requires a negotiation,” Alise said, holding his gaze.

    Raithion looked into her green eyes, so different from Azula’s and yet similar, and nodded.

    “Yes, I had a solution, but it may require considerable risk.”

    “Of course,” Alise said with a nod. “If it is what I think, I also believe the solution is very risky. But I don’t have to undertake the risk; it will be my brother. Prince Azula has a past with you that has left him unable to start a conversation. I want to help him and you.”

    Raithion shifted to look at Yulin, who was laughing at something Haedor had said. He returned his attention to Alise and nodded.

    “I’ll do anything you want me to,” Raithion said.

    “That’s good news,” Alise said. “I’ve brought a carriage with me. I would like your party to move to the Prince’s Manor. We are hosting a bonfire party this evening, which provides you with a great opportunity to meet our council members before you present your risky solution to them in a council meeting. Are you willing?”

    Raithion studied her for a minute. “I’m willing, but I have a request.”

    “What request?” Alise asked.

    “Can Yulin return to the ship?” Raithion asked. “He is innocent, after all.”

    “Certainly,” Alise said. “Protect your child as you see fit, Draeya Prince. We can drop off the ones you want to see off at the dock before we head to the Prince’s Manor.”

    “I thank you,” Raithion said.

    “I’ll wait for you outside,” Alise said, then nodded and turned to leave.

    Raithion watched her walk away and felt his blood sing with excitement. He had always known she would be the one to open the door for negotiations. He hurried back to talk to Dain and Haedor. They returned to the room to pack up the meager belongings they had brought.

    “I’ll go back with Yulin and Sharian,” Dain said. “I have the prescriptions Lady Lasma gave us to nourish Yulin’s health from now on. I’ll share them with the ship’s healer, and we’ll wait for you to return.”

    “That frees me to go with you,” Haedor said to Raithion. “Do you think there will be trouble?”

    “I don’t think so,” Raithion said. “As long as our legion officers remain on the ship, there should be no trouble.”

    “I don’t like it,” Haedor said, shaking his head as they left Yulin’s room.

    Raithion held his son tight, happy the boy was lively enough to think they were going on a new adventure.

    “Well, you’re going with Lord Raith; keep him safe,” Dain said as they got outside the Healer’s Cove to find two carriages waiting.

    Alise was not alone; she had three soldiers with her.

    One of the soldiers opened the side doors of the second large black carriage, which reminded Raithion of the carriage he had taken with Azula five years ago. The inside was much more comfortable than the one he had used then. The benches were covered with high-quality leather, and intricate wood paneling on the sides contributed to weatherproofing. The windows had glass and a curtain that was pulled open. The interior was quite spacious; it could fit all three of them plus Yulin with no trouble.

    Alise stopped at the open carriage door.

    “I’ll follow behind you. The driver knows what to do,” Alise said.

    The soldier closed the door, and Raithion settled Yulin on his lap. The carriage started moving, and they all braced for the physical strain of the ride, but there was no such thing. The ride was smooth; it felt like they were sitting on a smooth, gliding car with no jolts.

    “I feel like Basileus Dio,” Dain said with a wide grin. “This must be what he feels like when he rides in his carriage.”

    Haedor chuckled and patted the bench. “The Sura always did have the best things.”

    They arrived at the dock faster than Raithion anticipated.

    Dain and Sharian climbed out of the carriage when the soldiers opened the door.

    Raithion kissed Yulin’s cheek.

    “Yulin, you go to the ship with Uncle Dain and Sharian. I need to thank Lady Lasma for taking care of you. Then I’ll come back to be with you,” Raithion said. “Okay?”

    “Will you be gone a long time?” Yulin asked, clutching Raithion’s black shirt.

    “No,” Raithion said. “I’ll hurry back to the ship before you start to miss me. I promise. Be a good boy and don’t cause trouble for Uncle Dain. Okay?”

    “Okay,” Yulin said, then pressed a kiss on Raithion’s cheek with a wide smile. “Hurry back, Papa.”

    “I will,” Raithion said, then handed the boy to Dain, who was waiting. “See you soon, Yulin.”

    “See you soon,” Yulin said, waving his hand. “See you, Uncle Haedor.”

    “See you,” Haedor said, waving his hand.

    The carriage waited for Dain, Sharian, and Yulin to hurry out of sight, heading to the boat that would take them back to the ship, before it started moving.

    “I’m kind of excited,” Haedor said, moving so that he could look out the window. “I’ve never seen what Sura Island looks like. If the Healer’s Cove is just a small part of it, the rest must be amazing.”

    “Probably,” Raithion said, also moving the curtains so that he could look out.

    At first, there were just tall trees along the road, and in the distance, the shadow of the Sura Mountain. But the deeper they went into the island, the roads became wider and smoother, and the villages more dense and picturesque. They drove by a school where students were running out of the compound with excited energy, then they passed by a neat open market with traders selling vegetables under bright umbrellas and open shops built with stone, which were selling fabric and household items among other things.

    Soon, they were in the middle of a small city where the streets were bustling, and more black carriages filled the roads.

    “Wow,” Haedor said as they drove by an ornate blue carriage parked in a square with a crowd of young Sura teenagers standing around it as a beautiful singer stood on top of the fancy carriage, singing and dancing her heart out. “It’s no different from Genad City.”

    Raithion chuckled as they left the enthusiastic teenagers behind. The carriage came to a stop at an intersection, and Raithion’s eyes widened as they saw a majestic, large, round building with a domed roof and white walls. It looked like the center of administrative responsibilities. There was a massive, coiled horn forged with bronze sitting on a stone pedestal outside the round building. The surface of the horn was carved with traditional Sura clan tribal signs, and a signboard at the front of the building called it simply the Village Hall.

    As they passed the Village Hall, Raithion saw another building similar to the Healer’s Cove, except this one was busier. It looked like the main healing center. Next to this was a large square building labeled Military Office. The soldiers guarding the outside saluted the carriage passing behind them, and Raithion assumed they recognized Alise.

    The carriages kept moving, and soon they were racing along a winding road.

    “There’s a lake,” Haedor said. “I always thought they had enough with a mountain, but there is a lake, and we seem to be heading toward it.”

    Raithion glanced out the windows, hoping to see the lake, but all he saw were handsome homesteads between the trees with well-appointed houses. For a minute, he thought he was driving through Draeya County, especially when the surroundings suddenly gave way to a vast plantation of rice. It was clear that the Sura had done their best to make sure they would be self-sufficient, even fortifying their pantries.

    “Azula has worked hard,” Raithion said as they drove through a thick forest only to enter a pair of gates with stone pillars and snarling gargoyles on top.

    The carriages sped along the long drive; the gardens were filled with blooming flowers and well-trimmed hedges. They entered a circular drive, and their carriage came to a stop.

    Haedor opened the door before the soldiers in charge could reach them. He jumped out and stood staring at the large three-story manor with its intricately carved stone walls and soaring, sun-drenched arched windows. A lush tapestry of vibrant pink and white bougainvillea climbed the façade, flowing along balconies and clinging to walls. The manor spoke of age, having raised generations of Doriel families, and it gleamed with the weight of the family’s ancestry.

    The great front doors opened without a sound; they were well-oiled, and a tall, thin man hurried down the steps to meet them.

    “Welcome to the Prince’s Manor. I’m Juya. It’s good to have you here,” Juya said.

    Alise joined them, and Raithion’s brow rose when Juya took her right hand, holding it tight as though to assure her. Then Juya turned to them.

    “Please, let’s go inside,” Juya said, tucking Alise’s hand into the crook of his arm and leading her up the steps.

    Raithion met Haedor’s questioning look, and he winked as they followed the pair into the majestic Doriel residence.

    *****

    <<Previous | Blades of Ashes ToC | Next>>

  • Blades of Ashes Ch 14

    Azula rode a fast horse from the Old Docks back to the Doriel Manor. At some point in the last year, the Sura people had started calling it the Prince’s Manor. He had no choice but to accept their respect, but at this point, it was the hardest thing he could ever face. Being chieftain of the Sura clan made his heart ache, especially when he had to face a man he’d once thought of as being as strong as a god; a man who, after seeing him for the first time in five years, he still wanted to care for. He still wanted to know him.

    What the hell had happened to the Draeya General? Why was he so thin? Why did he look so sad? Why would he dare to kneel before him without protest? Where was the strong general who had argued with him on a balcony?

    Azula dismounted his horse when he reached the manor’s front gate and raced inside, unsure what to do. He ran up the stairs to the first floor and opened the door to Alise’s reading room before he could think. He stopped when he saw her sitting on a couch by a window, reading one of the little pale blue books that were reports from their merchants in the Nerasa Kingdom. She paused when she saw him, and he crossed the room in fast strides, kneeling on the hardwood floor covered with a woven red carpet. He rested his head on her lap and closed his eyes. His fingers bunched the smooth pink silk of her day dress.

    Alise sighed and sank her fingers into his hair, stroking it gently.

    “Azula, what has you running so hard to hide in my reading room?” Alise asked, her voice gentle and soothing.

    Azula took a deep breath and relaxed on her lap.

    “Lise, will you take this mantle back?” Azula asked. “I have protected the clan. We are not in mourning anymore. Can I give it back now?”

    Alise sighed and rubbed his back, as she usually did to soothe Ruri.

    “I know it’s been hard, but you’ve done so well,” Alise said. “Azu, we’re entering a critical time. Now that someone from the Lyria Kingdom has come, we need to navigate the most dangerous period. I know you say you have no opinion on the matter, but I know what’s in your heart.”

    Azula shifted his head so that he could open his eyes. He stared at the window and the bright sky. The sky was blue and bright, as though mocking his turmoil.

    “What’s in my heart?” he asked, his voice quiet, as he dared not figure out what truly lay there.

    “Many hidden feelings,” Alise said, then stroked his hair some more. “But the lack of braids in your hair is the most obvious clue to it all. You still mourn our father, Azu. Your heart is heavy with thoughts of missing him. I suspect you hope you could discover why he died. You wish for his redemption, and because you do, so does the clan. Am I wrong?”

    Azula closed his eyes, not wanting to see the bright sky.

    “I cannot take the mantle from you yet,” Alise said, her tone soothing. “For your own sake, you need to find a way to lift the weight of grief from your shoulders. You may need to travel to Genad City in the Lyria Kingdom to find out the reason why Marius Doriel had to die; only then will your heart lighten. Little brother, I will wait until then.”

    Azula sighed, thinking about Raithion Maenaer. He had never taken the time to explain what happened during his journey to Genad City five years ago. While Alise was burdened with saving the clan and finding a way to survive, he had never shared what happened with the Draeya General. He had held his tongue for five years, but now… now he needed to tell Alise the truth.

    “The man who has landed on our shores is Draeya Prince,” Azula said, his voice soft. “When I met him at the port city, he was the Draeya General. I was naive then and recruited him to protect our carriage on the journey to Genad City.”

    “You’ve never mentioned this,” Alise said, her hand still rubbing his back.

    “Too many things were happening at once in those days,” Azula said, shifting so that he sat comfortably. Alise patted his back in understanding.

    “What did the Draeya prince do for you?” Alise asked.

    “Nothing,” Azula said. The word was heavy, his tone filled with annoyance.

    Alise’s hand paused, then she tilted her head so that she could look at Azula’s face. He caught her inquiring gaze and closed his eyes.

    “The Draeya Prince caught the thief who stole our ore,” Azula continued with a heavy sigh. “He promised that he would get the thief to the authorities and clear our good name. When we reached Genad City, we separated. I hurried to our manor in the city, only to find you and our parents were in chaos. Later, we found Dad and Yemin. I could not forgive him for failing to save them.”

    Alise gripped Azula’s shoulders and pushed him to sit up and face her.

    “What?” Alise stared at him in shock, her green eyes wide. “What about the thief the Draeya Prince caught?”

    Azula shook his head. “Only the Draeya Prince knows where that thief went.”

    Alise stared at him in shock.

    “Are you saying he framed us?” Alise asked.

    Azula closed his eyes, and then, because he had thought about it for five years, he shook his head.

    “The timeline doesn’t work,” Azula said, his tone solemn. “The night we arrived in the capital, Dad had already been arrested, according to what you’ve told me. We ran around until we found him together late that night. The Draeya Prince came into the city with me. He would not have had time to do the framing. What I suspect is that he knows the truth of that case and who did the framing.”

    “You’ve carried this alone for five years,” Alise said, touching his cheek with trembling hands. “Oh, Azula, why didn’t you share it with me? I would have helped.”

    “We needed to save everyone,” Azula said. “This was not something we needed to deal with at that time. Now, here he is at our shore. We must deal with it. Or Wolfe will start a riot because of his son if we try to make friends, and he is justified in it. I need to be hard on the Draeya Prince as the Sura Prince, to make him clear our clan’s name and give Wolfe and others like him the justice they deserve. Lise, I don’t know if I have the strength to be hard on that man, not when my heart is so torn.”

    Alise studied him for a minute, then her eyes widened again, and she stood up to walk to the window. Her socked feet were silent on the carpet. Her long hair was decorated with braids. Some looked messy because they were made by Ruri, but they all added to her beauty.

    Azula remained seated on the floor, waiting for her to process what she’d seen in his eyes. Then, Alise returned to sit on her chair, meeting his gaze.

    “You,” Alise said. “Has your heart been stolen by a Lyrian prince?”

    “No,” Azula said. “We never got a chance to try, or even see if we could be something. Tragedy descended. I forgot about it.”

    “Until today,” Alise said, leaning in to look into his eyes.

    Azula felt the heavy conflict of his position. He was a prince of a grieving people, but he was also a man who still felt a traitorous pull toward the very person tied to their pain.

    Azula swallowed hard, then looked away because he could not lie to her. He had been shocked to see Raithion so ravaged. And why was he dressed in black while holding such a young child?

    “The Draeya Prince,” Azula said, his voice trembling slightly as he stared at the carpet. “He begged for his son’s life as he knelt on the beach. He wore black clothes from head to toe. Do you know why people in Lyria would wear such black clothes?”

    “Black clothes.” Alise sat back with a surprised expression. “He’s in mourning.”

    “Mourning?” Azula gaped. “What? Do you think something happened to his family? He was keen to tell me that he loved his sisters very much. I…”

    “Azula Doriel,” Alise said, interrupting him.

    Azula glanced at her and let out a soft sigh. “Now you see why you should take the lead.”

    “I won’t,” Alise said, her voice firm yet supportive. “I do worry that he is a man who might have hurt our clan. I worry that you won’t forgive yourself for letting him into your heart when you do. Most of all, I’m glad you’re thinking of coming out from under the cloud of grief.”

    “Azu, you’ll do everything you need to,” Alise said. “If you do choose him for your lifelong promise, you’ll need to win the clan’s support to marry a Lyrian prince after everything we’ve been through. So, you’re going to find a way for the Draeya Prince and the Sura Clan to exist without wanting to fight to the death. It’s the only way you’ll calm your heart, Azu. I will stand by whatever choice you make, but you must make it work for both yourself and our people.”

    Azula stared at Alise for a moment, then he returned to resting his head on her lap again and closed his eyes.

    ****

    Relief flooded Raithion when Lasma returned with another woman named Alvas. Lasma carried a tray laden with containers of herbs, and Alvas carried a large bucket and a stack of clean white towels. Lasma placed the tray on the worktable and moved to stand before Raithion.

    “First, I will explain what we need to do,” Lasma said. “Your family has been touched by poison. So, I know the importance of you knowing what your son is ingesting.”

    Raithion nodded with a small smile, a gratifying sense of ease filling his chest.

    “Now, what I need from you is absolute cooperation,” Lasma continued. “No doubt or hesitation. I need your trust. So, I have a question for you, Draeya Prince Raithion Maenaer. Can you trust me?”

    Raithion stood and held Lasma’s gaze. “Yes.”

    “Good. Then your son can be saved.”

    Lasma turned to Dain. “What do I call you?”

    “Dain.”

    “Dain, please help us carry a large tub into the room,” Lasma said. “Alvas will show you where it is.”

    Dain followed Alvas out of the room, leaving the door open.

    “Draeya Prince, what can I call you that is not so formal?” Lasma asked with a helpless smile.

    “Please call me Raith.”

    “Raith.” Lasma moved to the bed. “Help me strip the boy. What’s his name?”

    “Yulin.”

    “What a lovely name,” Lasma said as she pulled the cover back. Yulin was still shivering, and his breathing was shallow.

    Raithion sat on the bed and lifted Yulin into a sitting position. His hands trembled with a mix of frantic hope and terror as he made short work of the jacket they had put on the boy on the ship. He then removed the trousers and the inner shirt.

    “Let him keep his underwear shorts,” Lasma murmured, her hand pressed to Yulin’s forehead.

    Dain and Alvas returned. Dain carried a large wooden tub, and Alvas carried a large pail of steaming water. They placed the tub near the worktable. Lasma got up from the bed and tested the temperature of the water before she added cool water from the sink. When Alvas returned with enough warm water to fill the tub, they worked together, adjusting the water temperature until it was a safe, comforting warmth.

    Lasma hurried to the worktable to open the herb containers. Alvas brought in a small, lit charcoal burner and placed an earthen kettle filled with clean water on the flame. The bitter scent of medicinal roots began to rise in the air.

    Lasma urged Raithion and Dain closer. She pointed to the herbs in the containers.

    “Silver Malice seems difficult to cure because the Lyria Kingdom does not have the herbs needed readily. The second difficult thing is timing. The herbs we use to make the antidote are sanguine cassia, moon chives, jade blossom, and red lavage.”

    “The red lavage grows wild on our mountain, so the Nerasa Kingdom trades with us as it grows easily on our soil. I’m going to crush the sanguine cassia into a pulp, then add it to the heating water. Once the water and pulp have come to a boil, we’ll add the remaining herbs and let them simmer. Then,” Lasma pulled a shimmering herb from her pocket, “we’ll add this to complete the antidote.”

    Dain and Raithion watched, mesmerized, as Lasma used a mortar and pestle to pound the sanguine cassia. She added the paste to the steaming water, then chopped the remaining herbs and added them to the boiling kettle. When the potion was simmering, the liquid turned green and began to roll with large bubbles. Lasma added the shimmering herb. It dissolved instantly, and the liquid turned perfectly clear.

    “Okay, let’s do a check,” Lasma said. Alvas scooped a small amount of the potion into a white porcelain bowl. Lasma donned a pair of gloves and reached for the teacup containing the Silver Malice.

    “Why do you need the poisoned tea?” Dain asked.

    “To make sure the antidote is the right consistency,” Lasma said.

    She looked at Alvas, who held out the bowl filled with the boiling portion. Lasma poured a single drop of the tea into the clear liquid. She used a silver pin to mix it and waited. The liquid turned a bright, vibrant yellow. Alvas and Lasma both let out relieved sighs. They discarded the poisoned mixtures and thoroughly cleaned the sink.

    “We are ready,” Lasma said. “Carry Yulin and let’s place him in the tub. His body temperature is very low, and it needs to be higher.”

    Raithion nodded and hurried to the bed. He removed his black jacket, rolled his sleeves, and unbuttoned his collar. He lifted Yulin and carried him to the warm water. Yulin whimpered and clutched Raithion’s shirt. Raithion murmured soft, broken comforts as he settled the boy into the tub.

    Lasma pulled a stool from under the worktable. She sat on it and gave Raithion a reassuring smile. “We’re going to feed Yulin the antidote. All of it, until he vomits the toxin sitting in his stomach. You see, Harrow and Mutagen don’t get absorbed into the system. Instead, they stay there and generate toxins that poison the blood system. The herbs in the antidote are for pulling the toxins these poisons are making in the body, and Yulin will have to vomit them out. It is terrible work, but we have to do it so that he can be saved. Are you ready, Raith?”

    Raithion nodded and knelt on the floor to support Yulin’s back. Alvas returned with two large buckets. She placed them next to Lasma, then got a new porcelain bowl. She added some of the antidote and put in three spoons of cold water to reduce the heat, then handed it to Lasma.

    Lasma fed the antidote to Yulin, supporting the back of his neck as she tilted the bowl to the boy’s lips and urged him to drink the potion with soothing tones. Yulin was a quiet boy and followed instructions without fuss, drinking as he was urged, his eyes sliding open for a moment. He panicked when he saw Lasma, but then relaxed when Raithion murmured words of encouragement.

    Once Yulin had drunk three bowls of the antidote, Lasma rubbed his back carefully as the boy trembled in the warm water. Then Yulin heaved, and Lasma lifted one of the buckets, urging him to throw up. When it started, Raithion felt his heart clench at the force of the act and the tears that filled Yulin’s eyes.

    Yulin shook and trembled, clutching Raithion’s hand tight and leaning on him when he got too tired. It was the most difficult thing Raithion had ever done in his life: watching his son suffer so much and being unable to do anything to help him. Tears stung his eyes, blurring the sight of his son’s pale face.

    “We’re almost there,” Lasma murmured at some point as she changed buckets and Dain took over the work of carrying the used bucket away, helping Alvas clean up.

    ****

    Azula followed Alise to the healer’s cove an hour before sunset. He had changed into a simple green tunic and trousers, and a wool coat he wore when he was home. They used a carriage to get to the healing center. Alise climbed out of the carriage first, carrying Ruri. Azula trailed after her, unsure what expression he should use when he faced Raithion again. Alise wanted to get to know Raithion and his men and check on Lasma.

    Azula had followed because he wanted to know more about Raithion’s mourning clothes. Who had died? Why did Raithion look so worn out?

    Shaking his head, he entered the healer’s cove after Alise and paused when he saw his godfather, Magnus, standing in the waiting area with his hands crossed against his chest.

    “Godfather,” Azula said, as Alise moved to kiss Magnus’s cheek before she turned to their guests with a smile. “Welcome to Sura Island.”

    The two men sitting on the chairs by the windows nodded in her direction, and she turned back to Magnus.

    “How is it going?” Alise asked.

    “The worst of it has ended,” Magnus said with a sigh. “Lasma and Alvas are helping them clean up the boy and settle him in a new room where it smells clean and is comfortable.”

    “Okay,” Alise nodded and moved to sit on one of the empty chairs, holding a subdued Ruri on her lap. “We can wait for her here.”

    Azula smiled because he knew Alise hated the smell of sickness; she would wait for as long as it took if it meant not having to enter an active ward.

    Azula had no such qualms.

    “I’ll check on Mom,” he said and headed down the corridor before Magnus could stop him.

    He walked down the corridor and found one of the cleaners working in the first ward, stripping the bed and opening the windows to air it out. The cleaner glanced up, saw Azula, and urged him to keep walking down the corridor to the next ward.

    Azula thanked him and hurried to the second door. He paused at the door when he heard Lasma talking gently to Raithion.

    “You’ve done everything for him, Raith,” Lasma said. “You’re a good father. Don’t doubt that. Now, we’ve cleared the poison, but we won’t know for sure until his temperature reduces. He may burn hot all night, so we’ll feed him some medicine to help break the fever. We’ll hope for the best in the morning. I’ll stay with you, so will Alvas. We’ll be with you through this.”

    “I need to settle my people,” Raithion said, his voice hoarse. “They should get a hot meal and a place to rest.”

    “Oh yes,” Lasma said, sounding tired.

    Azula sighed and knocked on the door to announce his presence. He stepped deeper into the ward and paused when he saw the frail boy sleeping on the bed.

    Lasma sat on one side, while Raithion was crouched on the other. He held the boy’s hand tight, his head bowed as he looked at the sleeping boy.

    Lasma glanced at Azula and smiled. “You came back.”

    “Mm, it’s evening. We need to settle you and plan meals,” Azula said. “I’ve heard your plans. I’ll get Senin and everyone to start a meal here and clean the residential rooms on the third floor for our guests.”

    “Sounds good,” Lasma said, relieved. “I’m glad you’ll handle it. It frees me so that I can concentrate on getting Yulin’s fever to break.”

    Azula’s gaze shifted to a silent Raithion; then he asked Lasma, “W-will he survive?”

    “We are very hopeful,” Lasma said. “Right, Raith?”

    Raithion lifted his gaze to meet Azula’s, his expression filled with a pure, fragile hope that lit him up as a smile curved his lips. It caught Azula off guard.

    “Yes, we are hopeful,” Raithion said. “Thank you for helping to save my son.”

    Azula turned away from Raithion’s handsome smile. With a small scowl on his face, he turned to leave. “That’s good news. I’ll go make arrangements.”

    Once outside the ward, he pressed a hand to his chest and frowned, scolding himself.

    ‘Why are you so happy about him smiling? He means nothing to you. Stupid idiot. So easily moved.’

    ****

    <<Previous | Blades of Ashes ToC | Next>>

  • Blades of Ashes Ch 13

    Azula finished crushing nuts for the children, then sat back, his gaze fixed on the ship approaching from the horizon. The mere thought of the clan council debating their stance on the Lyria Kingdom brought on the dull throb of a budding headache. He pressed his index finger to his temple, closed his eyes, and took several measured, calming breaths.

    Who would dare sail for Sura Island? Most Lyrian citizens still blamed the Sura for the economic collapse five years ago, going so far as to boycott the ore from Sura Mountain, or so reports from their friend on the mainland claimed. Unless a particularly daring merchant from the outer lands was aboard, which seemed unlikely, no one from Lyria had visited their small island for trade in years.

    Azula’s scowl deepened, and he opened his eyes. He watched the vessel crawl closer, his jaw tightening. He had been wondering how to engage the damn Lyria Kingdom, and now they were delivering themselves to his doorstep. He took a deep breath, stretching his arms high above his head with a soft sigh. As he lowered his hands, he smiled at Ruri, who was dutifully imitating him, hands resting firmly on his small thighs.

    “Ruri, blow your whistle for your godfather,” Azula said.

    “Okay!” Ruri reached for a silver chain tucked beneath the collar of his green tunic. At the end hung a small gold whistle that Azula had crafted himself. The guards assigned to Ruri were trained to respond to its piercing note regardless of distance or terrain.

    Ruri blew a sharp blast and tucked the gold back into his tunic. Within two minutes, ten men clad in black tactical gear filled the clearing.

    “Daiku greets Your Highness,” the leader said, stepping forward and nodding at Azula.

    “Take Ruri to his mother,” Azula said. “Then, tell Wolfe and General Nuovis to meet me at the old docks, the ones we used back when we still traded with Lyria.”

    “Godfather, I want to come with you!” Ruri protested. He stood tall, hands on his waist in a picture of innocent defiance.

    Azula smiled, reaching out to stroke the boy’s cheek. Ruri’s face was a perfect replica of Yemin’s, softened by Alise’s features. His strawberry-blond hair was tied back in a tight ponytail, and his tiny tunic and trousers made Azula wonder if the boy would ever hit his growth spurt.

    “Ruri, I need you with Daiku. Your job is to protect your mother. Understand?”

    “What about you?” Ruri asked, his brow furrowed. “Who will protect you?”

    “I have Wolfe,” Azula reassured him. “Besides, I’m just going to greet our guests and see if they like macadamia nuts.”

    Azula winked and kissed the boy’s cheeks before lifting him into Daiku’s arms. “Take the boys to their parents. And do not alert anyone outside the council about our newcomers.”

    “As you command,” Daiku said, holding Ruri protectively as he led the team away.

    Azula turned and moved deeper into the forest, taking the mountain slopes toward his workshop. He slipped inside, ignoring Heng, who was busy tutoring apprentices in the back room. At his worktable, Azula rummaged through blueprints and unfinished pieces until he found his latest project: a modified crossbow. It featured a sleek, foldable limb and a custom cartridge holding ten bolts for rapid reloading. He’d used it on rabbits, but never on men.

    He glanced down at his simple tunic and sighed, his eyes falling on the long coat Alise had commissioned for him. She insisted it befitted his station, and though he hated the formality of daily wear, its utility was undeniable. He threw the heavy, midnight-blue coat over his shoulders. The high-quality wool fell to his mid-calf, structured and imposing. He cinched a wide leather belt over the coat, sliding the folded crossbow into a specialized holster at his hip and securing a bronze spyglass into a matching leather casing on his opposite side.

    Now looking the part of a chieftain, Azula waved a silent dismissal at a curious Heng and left the workshop. He took an overgrown path toward the coast.
    He reached the old docks first. While the clan had shifted its commerce toward the Nerasa Kingdom to the northeast, the village elders had kept these western docks in good repair. The wood was sturdy and free of rot, though the shifting rocks beneath the waves remained a nightmare for any captain unfamiliar with the approach.

    The beach was eerily quiet. Normally, the white sands would be teeming with families, but with the children in school, the docks were deserted.

    Azula climbed to a high stone vantage point and unfurled his spyglass. He ignored the snap of the white sails, searching instead for the colors. He hissed a curse. Flying in the wind was a black flag emblazoned with a gold crest. It was the mark of an Imperial official. He collapsed the spyglass with a sharp clack.

    At the thought of the Lyria Kingdom, his mind flashed to the political entanglements that led to his father’s death and the face of Draeya Prince. The suppressed frustration of years of isolation bubbled up; he didn’t vent it with a cry, but with a sharp, violent kick to a loose stone. It skittered down the gentle slope to the white beach sands, a singular outlet for the anger he couldn’t show at will anymore. By the time Wolfe and Tanya arrived, his face was a mask of the Sura Prince who stood for every member of the Sura Clan.

    Tanya leveled her own spyglass at the ship and sighed. “An Imperial ship. The Basileus has sent a messenger. I suppose I should have known he wouldn’t forget us.”

    “Who do you think is on board?” Wolfe asked.

    “Draeya Prince,” Tanya replied grimly. “He oversees the imperial commandery. He wouldn’t overlook this island; it’s the perfect defensive position for a war against Nerasa.”

    Azula’s expression didn’t flicker. He had processed the irritation; now, there was only the mission. “We will receive them exactly as we would the Nerasa royalty.”

    “If that is your wish,” Tanya said. “I’ll summon a troop to provide a proper escort.”

    Wolfe looked at the approaching ship, his hand resting on his sword hilt. “Are you sure about this?”

    “I’m not sure of anything,” Azula said, his voice steady as he looked Wolfe in the eye. “The council wanted a solution to our standoff with Lyria. Here it is. At best, we negotiate a peace. At worst, Draeya Prince will make an excellent hostage.”

    Wolfe grinned, the tension breaking at the prospect of a fight. He nodded to Azula and hurried off with Tanya to deploy the soldiers for their guests’ arrival.

    *****

    Raithion paced the length of his cabin, the walls feeling tighter with every league the ship gained on Sura Island. A cold knot of anxiety twisted in his gut, a sensation he hadn’t felt since his first border skirmish at seventeen. Back then, the battle-hardened men defending the Lyria Kingdom from invaders had been so brutal in their vengeance that the sight had made him retch. He never imagined he would one day wield a blade with the same grim precision. Now he was a Draeya Prince with thousands of men at his command, unafraid of combat, yet he felt as though he wanted to crawl into a dark closet rather than face the people on Sura Island.

    He stopped at the window, took a jagged breath, and turned back toward the door.

    “You’re making us all dizzy,” Haedor remarked from the table, casually biting into a meat-filled bun. Sharian and Dain sat beside him, eating with a calm that bordered on indifference. “You should eat something before we disembark. The Sura may not want to feed us.”

    “I’m not hungry,” Raithion said, pivoting his path. He approached the table and retrieved the sealed envelope from Basileus Dio. For days, he had stared at it, trying to script a way to negotiate with the Sura Chief. Every draft failed. He tucked the letter into the inner pocket of his heavy black coat. The dark clothes served as a reminder of the three-month mourning period he was still observing.

    He didn’t dare look at his face in the mirror. He had to keep his focus: he was here to beg and bargain for his son’s life, not to seek out Azula Doriel. As he turned away from the table, Raithion frowned as a thought filled his mind.

    What if Azula had married? Five years was an eternity. The Sura were known for marrying young; the old chieftain used to host mass weddings at his manor in the capital every rest day. The image of Azula with a Sura spouse, a man or woman who shared his life, his bed, and his secrets, ignited a dizzying, suffocating, bitter wave of jealousy.

    Why do you care? He scolded himself, his heart hammering against his ribs. You were married. You have two children. Azula owes you nothing.

    Raithion sighed, resuming his restless march. He had lost Azula the moment they parted in Genad City. Every choice since that moment, from helping his father and Basileus Dio suppress the evidence Azula needed, the subsequent death of Azula’s kin, and the desperate race to the port as the Sura escaped, had been a betrayal. He had no right to expect anything but Azula’s unadulterated anger and disdain. And yet, a hopeful part of him whispered that Azula might still be single, that there might be a sliver of a chance to fight for that spark he had felt on the carriage while they played a game of chess. He hoped fiercely.

    A sharp knock broke his reverie. A legion officer opened the door and saluted. “We’ve arrived, Draeya Prince. We’ll need a skiff to reach the shore. Who will be joining you?”

    The anxiety didn’t vanish, but it settled into a heavy, resolute calm. The time for pacing was over.

    “Dain, Yulin, Haedor, and Sharian,” Raithion commanded.

    “You need a proper guard,” Haedor argued, standing up.

    “Not here,” Raithion said firmly. “I must step onto Sura Island as a desperate father, not a conquering prince. No matter what happens, no one draws a weapon. We follow their lead until I can negotiate.”

    Haedor muttered a curse, but the officer nodded. Sharian and Dain moved quickly to wrap young Yulin for the excursion, leaving the nanny on the main ship to care for little Skye.

    As Haedor rowed the small boat toward the beach, Raithion held Yulin close. The docks were empty, but Raithion doubted the silence of the island. It felt more like a trap than a welcome.

    “Do you think they’ll ambush us?” Haedor asked, his eyes scanning the treeline.

    “Yes,” Raithion said with absolute certainty.

    “You’re far too calm for a man about to face a losing battle,” Dain noted from the back of the boat.

    “I lost everything that mattered a long time ago,” Raithion said softly, tightening his grip on his son. All he had left was a plea for mercy.

    When the boat scraped the sand, Haedor leaped out into the surf. They had bypassed the wooden docks, opting for a stretch of pristine white beach. Haedor steadied Raithion as he stepped out, the weight of a feverish, sleeping Yulin heavy in his arms. Dain and Sharian followed, but they hadn’t taken five steps before a cloud of arrows hissed through the air, thudding into the sand just inches from their boots.

    “Don’t move!” Raithion barked, his eyes darting to Haedor. “Do not draw your sword.”

    Haedor’s fists were white-knuckled at his sides as he stepped in front of Raithion, shielding him with his body. They turned toward the slope overlooking the beach.

    Raithion’s breath hitched. A formidable line of nearly a hundred soldiers stood along the ridge, dressed in uniforms he didn’t recognize. They wore sharp, double-breasted black overcoats with silver buttons and structured military collars accented in gold. Burgundy patches marked their shoulders, and their black trousers were tucked into polished combat boots. Each man carried a sword and a notched crossbow, their strawberry-blond hair pulled into identical, disciplined ponytails. They moved as one, a cohesive, lethal machine. They were well-trained.

    Raithion took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He waited for the head of this army to arrive, and he wasn’t disappointed. On a sandy path to his right, four figures started a slow, leisurely descent to the beach.

    The first was a massive, imposing man in a crisp white shirt and black trousers, with a wide leather belt around his hips. His hair was intricately braided and pinned back with a heavy leather clip. Beside him walked a woman in a white dress with a voluminous skirt embroidered with gold filigree. Her short sleeves revealed ancient Sanskrit-style prayer lines tattooed in dark ink along her upper arms. Her long hair was in a neat, tight braid down her back. She moved with a regal grace, gold bracelets clinking softly.

    Behind them walked a lean man in a deep burgundy variation of the soldier’s uniform. His military jacket had three gold lines circling his wrists, a clear mark of high rank compared to the rank-and-file soldiers.

    Next to him walked a fourth person whom Raithion could not see clearly. Still, Raithion’s heart skipped a beat at the possibility. It was strange, but he always remembered Azula’s hair decorated with two braids that held the long strands in place.

    He was sure this was not Azula, as his hair was long and brushed straight with no braid in sight. Instead, his hair was brushed straight back to his shoulder blades, held by a simple clip to keep the long strands from his face. He wore a midnight-blue, high-collared greatcoat that looked both elegant and weathered. Its structured torso featured patterned bronze lapels and heavy, sealed pauldrons on the shoulders, while the long tails of the coat were split to allow for easy movement. A layered, embossed leather utility belt cinched his waist, housing metallic-accented holsters and scabbards that looked weathered from actual use. Raithion caught a glimpse of weathered black boots and dark trousers as they approached.

    And then, the group of four people shifted, and Raithion’s breath caught as he recognized Azula as the man with no braids in his hair. He looked so handsome; Raithion forgot how to breathe for a moment.

    Intense brown eyes stared at him. Raithion took in the stunning face that had grown only more so with time. Raithion took in every detail with devotion, from the perfect, slightly square chin and clean-shaven jaw to the defined nose, high cheekbones, and the perfect curve of his lips, even though they were now set in a grim line.
    Suddenly, Raithion wished for the Azula who had laughed easily with his eyes sparkling with mischief.

    Now, as Azula closed the distance between them, there was no sign of the playful young man he had first met in an inn five years ago. Instead, a hardened man stared at him with a challenge.

    Raithion took in a jagged, rugged breath as Azula stopped an arm’s length away.

    Azula’s right hand rose with terrifying fluidity. In a heartbeat, he was leveling a modified crossbow directly at Raithion’s chest, the bolt already notched.
    Azula met Raithion’s surprised gaze.

    “Master of the Blades of Ashes,” Azula greeted. “Unless your ship is sinking, I see no reason for you to be on my shore. State your business quickly so we can see you off. Sura Island is an independent territory. We no longer bow to the Lyria Kingdom.”

    Raithion breathed out, grappling with the indifferent look in Azula’s eyes. He cleared his throat, his heart hammering against his ribs in a fine blend of tragic affection.

    “Azula…”

    “You are addressing the Chieftain of our clan,” the imposing man in the white shirt and dark trousers interrupted, stepping up to Azula’s left. “He is Prince Azula Doriel. You will address him as Prince Azula, Chief Azula, or His Highness. We are an independent nation. Show your respect to our leaders.”

    Raithion didn’t look away from Azula. He simply nodded, acknowledging the title.

    Raithion held Azula’s gaze, refusing to believe Azula would really shoot him with an arrow. Taking a slow, deliberate step past Haedor’s protective stance, Raithion adjusted his grip on the sick child and began to sink to the sand.

    Azula’s expression didn’t flicker. His hand remained rock-steady, the tip of the crossbow tracking Raithion’s movement until it was pointed directly between Raithion’s eyes as Raithion knelt in the sand.

    Haedor hissed a curse, but seeing Raithion on his knees, he, Dain, and Sharian followed suit.

    “Prince Azula,” Raithion said, letting his raw desperation bleed into his voice. “Our ship is fine. I haven’t come for politics or war. I have come to beg. My son, Yulin, was poisoned with Silver Malice in the capital. I seek your clan’s legendary skill for an antidote. Without it, he will die.”

    Azula stared at Raithion, unflinching and unmoving. His hand remained steady as he pointed the crossbow at Raithion’s head.

    Raithion stared at the arrow notched in the crossbow.

    If Azula pulled the trigger, the arrow would go straight between his eyes, and it would be over in a second. Raithion watched him, silent and vulnerable, trusting the ghost of the man he had known five years ago.

    “Why should we show you mercy?” Azula asked after a long, suffocating silence.

    “I have no answer that can heal what Lyria did to you,” Raithion admitted, looking up at him. “I am at your mercy. I can only offer a solemn promise: I will do anything you ask. I will pay any price. Just save my son.”

    Azula scoffed, a bitter sound. “I’ve heard that promise before.”

    “Please,” Raithion whispered. “The boy is innocent. You have the antidote. If you help him, I’ll do anything you want, Your Highness.”

    Azula flinched almost imperceptibly at the title “Your Highness,” or perhaps at the weight of the plea.

    Then, a hand adorned with gold bracelets reached out, resting gently on the frame of Azula’s crossbow.

    “The child is innocent,” the woman said softly. She looked at Raithion with a flicker of pity. “We are not heartless people here. My name is Lasma Doriel, and I am a healer.” She turned to Azula. “We protect the innocent, regardless of the sins of their fathers.”

    Azula’s jaw tightened. “If that is what you wish, then so be it.” He lowered the crossbow, though the tension in his shoulders didn’t fade. “We will treat the child. But the moment he is stable, I want you and your people off this island.”

    Azula looked at Raithion one last time, a gaze that felt like a door slamming shut, before turning on his heel.

    “Leave fifty men on the beach!” Azula shouted to his generals as he walked away. “Monitor the Lyrians. Report any movement that isn’t strictly necessary for the boy’s care.”

    “Yes, Your Highness!” the soldiers barked in unison.

    Raithion remained on his knees in the white sand, trembling with a mixture of crushing relief and the agonizing realization that while his son might live, the Azula he met so long ago was gone.

    *****

    Lasma was the one who stepped forward, her touch gentle but firm as she urged Raithion to his feet. She pressed a hand to Yulin’s forehead, her brow furrowing the moment she felt the heat radiating from his skin.

    “Oh, he’s burning up,” she murmured. “Come. I’ll lead you to our nearest healing center; it’s a short walk from here. You will need to explain everything you’ve done to keep him alive since he ingested the poison.”

    Raithion exhaled a jagged breath of relief. He followed Lasma as she veered onto a path that skirted the wooden docks. Two Sura soldiers trailed them closely, their hands never far from their weapons, while the hulking man who had corrected Raithion’s address of Azula shadowed their every move.

    “Magnus, I’ll be fine,” Lasma said over her shoulder. “Go check on Azu.”

    “I’m staying with you,” Magnus grunted, his pace unyielding. He shot Raithion a look of pure irritation as they reached the main thoroughfare.

    Raithion, however, hardly noticed the scowl. He was too busy staring. Expecting a village crippled by five years of trade isolation, he was instead met with a picture of serene prosperity. A wide, well-maintained road led into a settlement of beautiful whitewashed houses, their porches framed by lush trees and vibrant, carefully tended gardens. He caught Haedor’s eye, seeing his own shock reflected there.

    There was no sign of the destitution Lyria had expected to inflict upon the Sura Clan. Instead, the people they passed appeared healthy and content, moving with a purposeful ease that spoke of a thriving society. The air itself felt different, cleaner, lighter, and wholly carefree.

    Lasma led them toward a modest three-story building nestled within a small grove. A hand-painted sign out front read Healer’s Cove. Lasma didn’t hesitate, pushing through the open doors with the air of someone who owned the space.

    A young woman in a crisp white dress, accented by a single gold stripe running from shoulder to hem, hurried to meet them. A modest scarf covered her hair, and her movements were quick and efficient.

    “Lady Lasma, what brings you to the Cove?” she asked, her eyes widening. “Are you injured?”

    “Not me, Hana,” Lasma said, taking the girl’s hand briefly to calm her. “There is a boy in need of urgent care. They claim it’s Silver Malice. I need you to fetch Alvas from the Prince’s Manor immediately.”

    “Right away,” Hana said, casting a wary, lingering glance at Raithion and his people before vanishing down a hallway.

    Lasma turned back to Raithion. “This way. You may lay the boy down in a private ward. Only one of you may stay with him; the rest will wait here.”

    She pointed to a sun-drenched sitting area by the windows. Magnus stepped into the center of the room, crossing his arms to ensure Haedor, Sharian, and Dain didn’t move an inch further.

    “Wait,” Raithion said, adjusting Yulin’s weight in his arms. He gestured toward Dain. “This is Dain. He has been managing Yulin’s treatment since the beginning.”
    Lasma glanced at Magnus, who looked ready to protest, then sighed. “Fine. He may come. The rest of you, stay put.”

    Raithion gave Haedor and Sharian a sharp, reassuring nod and followed Lasma down a quiet, sterile corridor. She swung open a white door, ushering them into a room bathed in natural light. Whimsical red and white flowers were painted across the walls, lending the space a warmth that masked its clinical purpose. The bed was draped in bleached linens that looked incredibly soft.

    Lasma pulled back the sheets and signaled Raithion to settle Yulin. She adjusted a flat pillow beneath the boy’s head with practiced tenderness, then sat on the edge of the bed. Taking Yulin’s left wrist, she went silent, her index finger pressed to his pulse point as she timed his heartbeats. After a tense minute, she looked up at Dain.

    “You’ve worked tirelessly,” she noted, her voice softening. “His pulse is stable, but he is teetering on the edge of a total system failure. Are you certain it was Silver Malice?”

    “I am,” Raithion answered for him, gesturing to the sealed leather bag Dain carried. The bag held the teapot Rasa had used and its contents, along with the two cups Naeri and Yulin had used.

    Lasma rose and led them to a large workstation against the far wall. It was a table equipped with various medical instruments.

    Raithion’s eyes widened at the sight of a porcelain sink fitted with a polished brass tap. When Lasma turned the handle, clear, pressurized water flowed freely. It was a level of advanced plumbing rare even in the Lyrian capital.

    Lasma washed her hands, pulled a pair of white cloth gloves from a shelf, and set a silver tray on the table. Taking the bag from Dain, she retrieved the teapot and emptied its contents on the tray with clinical precision. Then, she studied the dregs of the teapot and the stained leaves within. Her examination was silent and agonizingly thorough. Finally, she let out a long, heavy sigh.

    “It is indeed Silver Malice,” she confirmed, glancing back at Yulin. Raithion had already returned to his son’s side, clutching the boy’s small, clammy hand. “It’s a miracle he’s still breathing. How much did he take?”

    Dain produced a small ceramic cup from the bag. “His mother filled this, but he only took a single sip before he collapsed.”

    “He’s lucky,” Lasma said grimly. “A second swallow would have been fatal. The concentration in this tea was intended to kill instantly. Now, tell me exactly what you’ve administered.”

    “I’ve kept him on a strict regimen of activated charcoal for the last three days during our voyage from Lyria,” Dain explained. “The two weeks before that, I also used aloe and ginger for the gastric pain, and brewed turmeric and cotton plant to stave off the nerve-related tremors. I’ve been soothing the transitions with goat’s milk.”

    Lasma nodded approvingly. “You focused on the datura base of the poison.”

    “It was the only component I could identify before we understood the full scope of the toxin,” Dain admitted.

    “You did well,” Lasma said. She filled the cup with a sample of the poisoned tea, then emptied the rest of the pot into the sink and rinsed the tray with soap and water. “This teapot is contaminated beyond repair. I’ll have it incinerated. Anything brewed in it from now on would be lethal.”

    “I trust your judgment,” Dain said, his eyes fixed on the lone cup of tea she had set aside.

    “I’ll go fetch the antidote,” Lasma said, stripping off her gloves and tossing them into a laundry basket. She washed her hands, then crossed the room for one final check of Yulin’s pupils and temperature. “We don’t have much time left, but we have enough. Stay here. Rest.”

    “Don’t you need the tea for the cure?” Dain asked as he moved toward Raithion.

    Lasma offered a small, knowing smile. “We do. Watch over it until I return.”

    As the door clicked shut behind her, Raithion felt a wave of profound gratitude wash over him, so thick it nearly choked him. He didn’t care why the Sura had a cure ready for such a deadly poison or how they had become so much more advanced than his own kingdom. He could not bring himself to ask too many questions. All that mattered was that Lasma had spoken with the certainty of a woman who could snatch his son back from the grave. He wiped a hand over his tired face, watching Yulin’s fluttering eyelids.

    “Prince Azula,” Dain said quietly, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “He seems to harbor quite a bit of hatred for you. Why did he call you the ‘Master of the Blades of Ashes’?”

    Raithion closed his eyes, the memory of Azula’s face years ago, bright and hopeful, flashing through his mind. “Because I broke a promise to him. I was meant to protect what he held dear. Instead, I let it burn.”

    “Must have been a hell of a promise,” Dain sighed. “The Sura have clearly flourished without us. That crossbow he was carrying? I’ve never seen a mechanism like that. Our engineers are decades behind.”

    “He was always innovative,” Raithion whispered.

    “So, how do you plan on befriending a man who wants to put a bolt through your head?” Dain asked. “They’ve got us bottled up in a healer’s center so close to shore. They could toss us back into the sea in five minutes.”

    Raithion let out a short, dry chuckle. “Azula was always petty when he felt slighted. He once told me off at an inn for pushing him too far. I’m not taking his anger lightly, especially considering what Lyria did to his people. We’ll take it moment by moment. First, we save Yulin. The rest…the rest I’ll spend the rest of my life fighting for.”

    “If you say so,” Dain said, pushing off the wall. He headed back to the sink and started fiddling with the brass tap. “Do you think they’d let me see the drainage schematics for this place? I’ve been trying to overhaul the palace morgue, and the budget just got approved.”

    Raithion shot him a look of pure annoyance. “Could you please not discuss your morgue budget while my son is fighting for his life?”

    “It’s not my fault you brought a coroner to do a healer’s job,” Dain shot back with a smirk. “Besides, Lady Lasma liked my work. I can claim credit for keeping Yulin alive. That gives me leverage to ask you for more gold denaris for my morgue budget.”

    “Shut up, Dain,” Raithion grumbled, though the familiar bickering took some of the sting out of the room’s tension.

    “But, Lord Raithion, the ventilation alone…”

    ****

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  • Blades of Ashes Ch 12-2

    Mornings were beautiful on Sura Island. Azula loved watching the sunrise over the lake. He had taken to swimming early, before Alise and Ruri woke up. They worried too much when he was out in the lake during the day. Azula pulled himself up on the dock and sat on a bench to watch the beauty of the sun as it painted the sky with light.

    He could not believe five years had passed in this quiet, strange way. He wondered what their dad would say about all their progress on the island. Would Marius be happy, excited, and want to hold ten weddings at the same time?

    Azula chuckled at the thought and imagined his father would probably hold a hundred weddings at once. Marius Doriel always thought a flourishing clan meant marriages and children.

    Oh, how he missed that old man.

    Shaking his head, Azula grabbed the towel he had brought with him and put it over his head as he got up to walk to the house. He was met by Senin, who was waiting for him at the front entrance of the main house. Wiping his hair with the towel, he smiled at Senin.

    “What brings you out here so early?” Azula asked as he entered the foyer and crossed the great room to the staircase. Senin kept up with him, which made him realize Senin had something to say.

    “Azula, I came to tell you that there is a council meeting you can’t miss today,” Senin said as they reached the second floor.

    Azula’s room was the same one he had used since childhood, though the decor had changed with time. It started out as a boy’s room; now, it was a man’s room. It was decorated with utility-based furniture: a long couch and a comfortable bed. The closet was filled with work clothes and ceremonial clothes for when he needed to appear as the clan’s chieftain. The only thing that remained from his youthful days was a large worktable where Azula liked to tinker with joints.

    The worktable was by the large windows on the east side of the room, and the chair before it was modified to allow for comfortable sitting for when he got lost in his work. Azula turned toward the bathroom on the west side of the room, sliding the door open to enter the spacious bath. He turned on the water in the large copper bathtub, adjusted the temperature on the taps, and leaned on the counter where he kept his shaving items. Senin took a bowl from the counter, filled it with some of the water pouring into the bathtub, and brought it to the counter.

    Azula finished with the towel and placed it on the counter. He touched his chin and smiled when Senin pushed the chair by the counter closer to him.

    “Sit. I’ll help you shave,” Senin said, as he got a clean, small cloth from a shelf and busied himself finding the razor, the brush, the shaving oil, and the soap.

    “You’re spoiling me this morning,” Azula said as he settled in the chair, pulling the towel he had discarded around his shoulders.

    “I haven’t seen you for days,” Senin said. “The old miners are grateful you’ve been minding their health. The rail carts have reduced the strenuous work of carrying the mined ore from the top to the warehouse. Others enjoy taking the rail carts to the top mountain. There have been many gratitude vegetable baskets delivered to the kitchen downstairs. Alise believes you’re being courted by the younger ones.”

    “I’m happy the carts are of use,” Azula said, ignoring the remark about his marriage. He had no idea when he would face a decision on marriage with a clear mind.  He tilted his head back and closed his eyes as Senin covered his face with a warm towel. Azula sank into the anticipation of a clean shave as Senin prepared his tools.

    “What’s so special about today’s council?” Azula asked, as Senin took back the towel and started lathering his jaw.

    “We have two pressing issues,” Senin said with a sigh. “There is a girl named Laine who had a mishap at school. The council members can’t seem to agree on what they should do with her. Her mother asked me to ask you to listen to the case. Maybe you can intervene.”

    “Mm,” Azula said. “I’ll listen to the case. Is that the only reason you want me there?”

    Senin touched his shoulder to let him know to be still as he started shaving. Senin was fast in his movements. “The council members each have an opinion on the future of Sura Island. With Nerasa Kingdom offering us membership into their kingdom, there are those who have doubts. We need to find a lasting solution. I don’t think we can join Nerasa Kingdom so easily. We still need to worry about the Lyria Kingdom. The council needs you to mediate. Tempers run too high when they start discussing the future, especially between Juya and Wolfe Silverberry when they can’t agree on Lyria.”

    Azula winced at the mention of Wolfe. There was no way to console Wolfe. His son was gone, and perhaps the only way was to go to Lyria Kingdom, find the boy’s body, and give him a burial. But it would not heal the raw, jagged wound that Wolfe carried around. Letting out a soft sigh, he waited until Senin finished his shave. He cleaned up after, and Azula went to turn off the water in the tub. It had filled, and Azula was eager for a bath.

    “I don’t have the answers for Lyria Kingdom,” Azula said, looking at Senin. “I’ll come to the council meeting, but maybe we should all think about engaging the Lyria Kingdom for a resolution.”

    “Your mother told you not to seek revenge,” Senin said.

    “She did,” Azula said with a nod. “It doesn’t mean that we’re not owed answers. Maybe we can find a way to get them together. I’ll make sure to attend the council.”

    “Thank you, Azula,” Senin said, and turned to the counter as Azula stepped out of his trousers and sank into the copper bath. Senin cleaned the brush he used to soap Azula’s jaw and the blade. He put away everything and took the dirty water in the bowl with him. “I’ll see you at the council room in the village hall at ten today.”

    Azula relaxed in the bathtub with his eyes closed, and then, just as he was drifting into a doze, a face he hadn’t thought about in so long filled his mind’s eye. It was Raithion Maenaer, Draeya General… no, Draeya Prince now. It was that day on the balcony at an inn in Port City.

    Draeya General… Azula hesitated over the thought, then shrugged.

    Draeya General had looked at him with amusement and exasperation. How handsome he had looked, his green eyes so vibrant and painfully difficult to ignore. His heart ached at the memory because he sometimes wished he had not stepped out to meet Draeya General. Maybe then his father would have survived.

    Shaking his head, Azula sat up and concentrated on bathing seriously, using the soap Alvas made with frankincense and tea tree. When he was clean from head to toe, he drained and rinsed the tub before he grabbed a freshbath towel and stepped into his room to dress.

    He ate breakfast with his mother, Alise, and Ruri. After breakfast, he hurried to the workshop to check on the last of the rails he was forging to finish the final stretch of the tracks. He was just getting into the rhythm of the work when Ruri came running into the workshop accompanied by one of the school teachers.

    “Godfather, Mom is looking for you,” Ruri said, taking his hand and leading him out of the workshop. The teacher smiled in greeting.

    “Ms. Alise sent us up here to remind you of the council meeting,” the teacher said.

    Azula laughed at Alise’s gentle demand for his time and allowed Ruri to lead him outside to one of the rail carts. He lifted the boy into the cart and they sat on the bench. The teacher sat in the second rail cart, and Azula gave her a polite nod before he shifted the forward lever, and the rail carts started moving along the rails, heading down to the village center, where the hall was located. 

    Ruri let out excited squeals as they sped along the rail, winding down the mountain side until they reached the village center. Azula stopped the cart and held on to Ruri as he climbed out of the rail cart. Carrying his nephew, Azula walked toward the village hall.

    Everyone they met greeted Azula with wide smiles and nods. Azula responded to each one, getting help from Ruri.

    “Morning, Your Highness.”

    “Morning,” Ruri would say at the same time as Azula.

    “Hope your day is good, Your Highness.”

    “You too,” Ruri and Azula said, making people chuckle.

    “Is Ruri my little parrot this morning?” Azula asked as they entered the hall.

    “Mom says I need to learn how to be kind,” Ruri said.

    “But you’re the kindest,” Azula said as they headed to the council room. 

    The village hall had morphed in the past years and now housed different government offices as well as the council office where the clan’s council met on business.

    Alvas met him before he entered the hall and took Ruri from him. Azula kissed the boy’s cheeks and entered the council room to find most of the members waiting for him. Everyone stood to greet him and, for a moment, the sense of ceremony stunned him. He was twenty-five this year and somehow, in the past five years, he had gained the respect of all the council members; he could not stop them from standing when he walked into a room. It was humbling and frightening at the same time.

    Azula sat at the head chair of the long rectangular table in the room. When everyone arrived, the council meeting started and the men and women who helped manage the clan began a lively discussion.

    Azula watched them discuss shipments to Nerasa, harvesting plans for the rice fields that had grown in the past five years, and the recruiting process of new warriors. Then, Senin met his gaze when they started discussing a student who had hurt her fellow students while mixing chemicals in the smelting workshops at school.

    So many troubles. Azula sighed and listened to the case with a sense of amusement.

    “Your Highness, what do we do about Laine?” Lasma asked, turning to look at him with expectation. The fact that she used his title was enough to tell him that she wanted him to give this issue his all. “She’s hurt other children. The children’s parents want an answer or…”

    “Retribution against a child,” Azula cut in. “I don’t know what to say to that. Does she want to keep mixing chemicals?”

    “What does that have to do with anything?” Juya asked. “She’s dangerous. She should stay away from the chemicals in the workshop at school if she can’t observe safety precautions.”

    “Does she like it or hate it?” Azula persisted, looking at Alvas, who managed all the education cases that came to the clan council.

    “She seems to enjoy it and has been depressed by the idea of not being able to go to the school smelting workshop,” Alvas said.

    “Then send her to my workshop to work with Heng. He smelts metal for the rail tracks. She can help, learn, and test as much as she wants. If the work interests her, let her get a job there,” Azula said. “It will pull Laine out of the school workshop. The parents won’t worry about an accident and Laine can test her abilities. What do you think?”

    Alvas smiled and nodded while Juya spoke up.

    “You’re rewarding her wrongs,” Juya said.

    “No. I’m redirecting her talent,” Azula said, meeting Juya’s gaze. “Was anyone damaged by the accident she caused?”

    “No,” Alvas said. “The kids ran off when the mixture she made exploded. The only thing that was damaged was the worktable.”

    “Then,” Azula grinned, “she can work with Heng in the workshop to repay the school for the worktable. Maybe Heng can teach her how not to have an accident.”

    “Sounds good,” Lasma said in agreement.

    Juya grumbled, but he nodded his agreement.

    “Now that Laine’s matter is resolved, we need to discuss the Nerasa Kingdom,” Tanya Nuovis, the primary Sura General, said. “Their ships have been patrolling closer to our waters. Are we planning on changing our allegiance to the Nerasa Kingdom?”

    Azula settled in for a discussion he had been avoiding for days.

    “Everyone in the council has an opinion on the future of this island,” Azula said. “Why don’t we all share our thoughts? I’ll pose the question: Should we allow the Nerasa Kingdom’s gentle annexation or find a way to renew our ties with the Lyria Kingdom to stop Nerasa?”

    “There are scars that need a sane explanation,” Alvas said without prompting, looking around the long table. “Families lost their loved ones. Some are still missing. None of us know if they are alive or dead. We have not had the courage to venture into Lyria Kingdom for answers. Perhaps we should try to visit Lyria and see if we can find the answers.”

    “I second Madam Alvas’s opinion,” Wolfe Silverberry said, meeting Azula’s gaze. “I run your security when you’re traveling in Nerasa, Your Highness. I have helped General Tanya strengthen our defenses. The work is good, but I have not forgotten what happened five years ago. It is good that Sura Island has grown strong, but… I still hope I can bring my son home daily.”

    Azula nodded, understanding Wolfe’s loss would need true closure.

    “There are questions we never got answers to,” Senin said, his tone gentle. “I have many requests from family members who lost people in Lyria. They want answers I don’t have. We should try to formally close these requests. Perhaps we can send an envoy to Lyria for answers.”

    “Lyria Kingdom is a dream,” Juya said, shaking his head, his gaze on Alise. “It wasn’t easy getting out of there. How can we send people there in good conscience? They murdered us like dogs on the streets. There is no guarantee that the Lyria Kingdom’s government has changed its stance.”

    “I agree with Juya,” Alise said, her voice soft, laden with sadness, her thoughts clearly on Yemin and their father, Marius. “There is no guarantee that they won’t murder us on sight.”

    “We don’t need to go as our true selves,” Kalas said. “We can choose a team to disguise themselves and land on Lyria Kingdom as though we are from Nerasa Kingdom. It would be easy to find the answers.”

    “Perhaps,” Magnus said, finally speaking, his fingers tapping on the table. “I don’t know that it is the right way to approach this. The clan seeks redemption. They no longer have to worry about surviving; now, they have time to think about the injustice. A covert infiltration won’t heal the scars. We need a formal engagement with the Basileus for any meaningful closure.”

    Azula glanced at Lasma. His mother gave him a helpless glance and smiled. “I have my own reservations about facing off with the nobles of Lyria Kingdom, but… the clan needs answers. I—I think that Magnus is right. we should seek a formal engagement with the Basileus.”

    Azula stared at his mother for a full moment before he let out a soft, uncertain breath. “Now that everyone has stated their concerns, I would like to ask you all to think on how we would engage with Basileus for answers. It’s not an easy project. I don’t think we can decide it in a day. So, talk to everyone; maybe they’ll have a solution. I can’t think of one at the moment.”

    “Oh, you have no opinion on Lyria Kingdom?” Alise asked, looking at him.

    Azula made a face at her. “I do not have a civil opinion on the matter, and I promised mom to think three times before I act on any Lyria Kingdom plans.”

    “Well, the sea must be running still if you’re thinking thrice about something,” Alise said with a laugh.

    Azula winked at her and let out a soft sigh. “Well, if we’re done here, I’m going to collect macadamia nuts with the kids.”

    “Azula,” Lasma started, but Azula pushed his chair back and got up.

    “Don’t forget to send Laine to Heng. He’s been bugging me about an assistant. I’ve finally found him an interesting one,” Azula said as he ran out of the council meeting room.

    ****

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  • Blades of Ashes – Ch 12-1

    Raithion dressed in formal clothing for his official visit to the palace. It was a day after the funeral, and the city was awash with gossip of Naeri’s death. The scribes had published the story of Naeri’s death at the hands of her most trusted lady-in-waiting. Gesi Ajai was busy trying to control the narrative, but there was no way to hide the truth. Raithion had insisted that the coroner share the details of the poison used on his wife and child in case an antidote could be found sooner.

    “Ajai will try to divert the attention to his family,” Kailu guessed, watching Raithion don a heavy black long coat.

    Raithion moved to the mirror at the vanity table as he buttoned the coat. His shirt and trousers were black, and the formal long coat was also black, though the wrists were embellished with gold lines to mark his station as the Commandery Prince. He fastened the gold buttons and sat down at the vanity. Sharian tied his hair with a gold clip and trimmed the beard Raithion had refused to shave.

    “The attention will not end easily,” Raithion said. “Push the printers to publish morning and evening. I want everyone in Genad City to know about Silver Malice. If possible, push the news beyond the capital to the various states.”

    “I have someone working on it,” Kailu said.

    Raithion nodded, pulled on his fine leather boots to match his formal attire, and shifted to look at Kailu.

    “Don’t you think it’s time to take on your true station?” Raithion asked. He had known Kailu a long time. When they were younger, and Raithion was free of the constraints of marriage, he was happy to keep Kailu’s secrets and let him play to his fullest among the Maenaer Legion officers.

    Now, his life was rubble filled with a dead wife, a poisoned son, and an infant daughter. He could not focus on anything else but bringing his life under control. Shaking his head, he gave Kailu a wan smile.

    “Things are at this point,” Raithion said, pointing to his black clothes. “I’m about to enter the palace and seek time away from the capital. My father will take over the Commandery Office in the palace. However, he is a true general—ambitious, but not as perceptive with the common people as he should be. He has a tendency to lean into the political ideas that interest him. Kailu, your cousin, is also ambitious, and now that he has gained full control of the city’s defenses, thanks to you and me, he will want to fight Gesi Ajai and the Prime Minister for more political control. So, I can only ask you to protect my sisters and mother while I’m away. What do you say?”

    “Raith,” Kailu started, only to sigh. “You’re quite smart, reaching out to me when I can’t refuse you.”

    “Your mother has done a great job protecting Little Bird in the palace. She’ll be happy to see you returning to your true self. I’m relying on you, Prince Kailu Adertha.”

    Kailu smiled at the mention of Princess Sanan. The princess married her trusted guard when she turned twenty-one and gave birth to a son. Her mother and Basileus Rokas all insisted on her remaining in the Adertha Palace and named Kailu a prince.

    Prince Kailu had run out of the palace when he was sixteen and joined the army, where he met Raithion. They had looked after each other since.

    “What do you plan to do when you get to Sura Island?” Kailu asked.

    Raithion’s gaze shifted to the blades Azula gifted him five years ago. They were resting on a stand. The handle that clipped the two blades together had started to malfunction. He had taken to keeping the blades separate. He missed the weighted feel of the double blades when they snapped together.

    “I don’t have a plan,” Raithion said with a sigh, thinking of Azula’s angry expression when he last stood face-to-face with him. “Azula was very angry when we last met. It was understandable, as his clan was decimated in the Sura cleanse. There’s nothing I can say that could dissolve his anger. So, I will just show up.”

    “I suppose that is a plan,” Kailu said. “I hope Haedor protects you well in the face of Azula’s anger.”

    “Me too,” Raithion said with a weary smile as he got up. He gave the broken blades one last glance before he started heading out. “Let’s go, Your Highness. We have a lot of work to do today.”

    Kailu let out another sigh, then followed him out of the bedroom.

    ****

    Raithion met Dio in his office. Dio stood when Raithion walked in and came around his desk to give him a short hug.

    “The funeral went smoothly,” Dio said. “You handled the ceremony quite well. It must have been difficult, but you were very strong. I could only support you from behind. Do you need anything now?”

    “Yes,” Raithion said with a nod. Dio pushed him to sit in a chair before the desk and then leaned against his desk. “I need permission to leave the capital. I have an opportunity to find a cure for Yulin. I have to take it. It means I have to travel out of Genad City. I don’t know how long it will take me, so my absence will be indefinite.”

    Dio closed his eyes and folded his arms against his chest. Raithion sat still in his chair and watched Dio until the Basileus took a deep breath and pushed off the desk. He moved around the desk to the main seat and sat down with a sigh.

    “You want to leave us alone in the capital,” Dio started.

    “You won’t be alone,” Raithion said. “My father is here, and so is Kailu.”

    “Kailu—” Dio said, but Raithion interrupted him right away.

    “He is your cousin, My Lord. He will return home and take on his title,” Raithion said. “He knows all my duties and will protect you and Little Bird. I trust him with your lives.”

    “I don’t doubt that you do, but it’s not the same when you’re not in the capital,” Dio said, shaking his head. “We’re in a good place, military-wise. But now we’re about to take on the political wall the Libert and Populi have in my court. We can’t do it without you.”

    “My son is dying,” Raithion said, his tone cold. “Gesi Ajai had someone poison him in my house. I can’t watch him die without finding a solution. I need to leave the capital.”

    “Prince Raithion,” Dio started, but Raithion slammed his palm on the desk, letting his anger color his voice.

    “You owe me,” Raithion said, his teeth gritted. “Don’t think I don’t know how I ended up married to Naeri Ajai. I allowed your plans because it is what you were owed. It is what your father was owed. I lived through everything Naeri put me through, including her devious plots to rob me of my free will so she could conceive two children. Two children I did not know how to love until she died in my great room and left them with only me as a parent. So, you need to release me from the burden of this palace. I need to go fight for Yulin and Skye now, so that I can find some peace after five years of this hell.”

    Dio stared at him in silence. They sat staring at each other for five minutes before Dio nodded.

    “Do you know that is the first time you have ever dared to tell me what you’re thinking?” Dio said with a sigh. “You’ve always kept to discussions about your duty as the Commandery Prince and your protection of Soriel. Never once have you dared to speak your mind. I’m very happy, Raith.”

    Raithion stared at him, then turned away to look out the window. His jaw clenched for a minute before he stared at his hands in his lap.

    “Forgive me,” Raithion started.

    “No, you don’t get to take back that tirade,” Dio said with a small smile. “Will you tell me where you’re going? Are you sure the imperial healers cannot come up with the cure?”

    “Dain.”

    “The coroner?” Dio asked.

    “Don’t judge him for his work; he is very good at discovering what ails people,” Raithion said. “He says the antidote for Silver Malice needs an expert. Someone who will know the precise dosage to give to Yulin. The only known expert is on Sura Island.”

    Dio sucked in air at the mention of the Sura.

    “Are you sure they will help?” Dio asked.

    “I don’t have a choice but to seek them out,” Raithion said. “I’ll have to deliver myself to the Sura Clan and see if they will help.”

    Dio sat in silence for a moment, then reached for a fresh sheet of paper from a holder on his desk. He picked up his fountain pen and started writing. When he finished, he picked up his official seal and stamped the letter with red ink before he handed it to Raithion.

    “I cannot undo what happened to them during the forged silver case,” Dio said. “But I can promise justice and the right to reopen the case to find the truth. You already have the Doriel Manor under your control. You have the right to give it to them as you will. This is the most I can do for you now. This is a warrant of retrial. You can hand it to the new Sura Chief on behalf of my court.”

    Raithion took the edict and read it. Dio had stated simply that he would grant the Sura Clan the mandate to seek a fresh retrial of their case and the right to seek fresh evidence to clear the clan’s name in court.

    “Thank you,” Raithion said with a small smile, knowing Azula would be happy to see the warrant, if not him.

    Dio got up and found an envelope from his drawers. He walked around the table and took the paper from him, folding it neatly before sealing it in an envelope and stamping the closed edge with his ring.

    “I am grateful to you, Raith,” Dio said, meeting Raithion’s gaze. “I have noted everything you have done for my family and me since you joined this palace. Every step you have taken to protect Soriel and me, I have written it in my heart. I promise not to interfere with your family matters anymore. If you do ever meet someone you’re willing to make a partner, I will stand for you and your lover for the rest of my days. That is my promise. Go, leave the palace to your father, Soriel, and me.”

    “And Kailu,” Raithion reminded him. “Let him help; otherwise, he will run back to my Maenaer residence for sanctuary and never return. Princess Sanan won’t forgive you.”

    Dio scoffed and shook his head. “Fine, and Prince Kailu.”

    “Good.” Raithion got up. “Then I’ll leave without worry.”

    “Good luck with the Sura,” Dio said as Raithion took the sealed envelope and headed to the door.

    “Yeah,” Raithion said, sure he would need a miracle to get Azula to look at him.

    That day, two things surprised the courtiers in the imperial court. One was that the Draeya Prince was leaving the capital to handle matters in Draeya County in the Naga State. Most people understood his need to return to his home county after all the tragedy in his home. The commoners wished him well and hoped that his son would find a cure soon. It was sad to imagine him planning a second funeral so soon.

    The second news was the arrival of Duke Maenaer at the court as he took over the Draeya Prince’s Commandery Office. He would be supported by Princess Sanan’s elusive son, Prince Kailu Adertha—Prince Kailu, who had not been seen for ages. The court was in an uproar over the news.

    That evening, Noriel, Soriel, Silveren, and Thanir all gathered at the gates as they watched Raithion’s private legion guard pack up and secure the carriages carrying Skye and Yulin with their nanny. Raithion’s butler, Daron, ensured they had everything, and all that was left was a quiet goodbye.

    “Take care of yourself,” Silveren said as she held on to Raithion’s right hand. “Don’t forget to eat on time. Don’t think about home too much. We can manage. You focus on finding a cure for Yulin.”

    “I will,” Raithion said, pulling her into a tight hug. She kissed his cheeks and stepped back to let Soriel and Noriel hug him. He held his sisters tight and promised to return with good news.

    Then he was standing before Thanir.

    “The Sura have a lot to gain from an agreement with the Lyria Kingdom,” Thanir said, holding his right hand tight. “There have been rumors that they have grown their island and changed their power structure. The Nerasa Kingdom is sniffing around them and may attempt a soft annexation. However, Sura Island is still part of Lyria; any annexation by the Nerasa Kingdom would trigger a war. It is not something the Sura would want. Lean on that when you meet the new Sura Chieftain.”

    “I’ll remember,” Raithion nodded, thinking of Alise, Azula’s sister. She was the next chieftain. He hoped she would be easy to talk to; at the very least, she might be willing to negotiate.

    “Yulin will be cured,” Thanir said with confidence.

    It was a confidence that filled Raithion up inside, and he nodded before he hugged his father tight, then turned to mount his horse, followed closely by Haedor, who was leading the convoy of three carriages heading to Draeya County.

    Raithion gave his family one last glance before he turned his horse and left the capital, his heart pounding with the anticipation of seeing Azula Doriel again.

    ****

    <<Previous | Blades of Ashes ToC | Next>>

  • Blades of Ashes Ch 11-2

    A wild period began in the Maenaer Manor, especially once Benira saw her daughter in the grand coffin Silveren had found for her daughter-in-law. It was painted black and inlaid with gold designs. Naeri was dressed in a fine red ceremonial dress to mark her station as the Commandery Princess. Gold hairpins were in her hair, with matching gold jewelry at her neck and gold nail guards on her fingers. She looked majestic in death, and the sight triggered Benira into endless grieving. The coffin was then placed in an ice room constructed at the back of the property.

    Benira then sat in the front courtyard of the main house and wailed for all visitors to see her grief.

    Silveren ignored her antics but made sure Benira had food when she needed it, a comfortable room to rest, and people to attend to her needs.

    Noriel helped her mother manage the house and deal with the team of investigators who overturned the manor and interrogated all the staff living in the manor.

    Soriel tried her best to penetrate the mental wall Raithion had put up as he sat on a chair by his son’s bed, while the healers did their best to save Yulin. But Raithion allowed nothing else to disturb him. Not even reports that Haedor had finally found Rasa, Naeri’s attendant, who had been trying to escape the manor in a rice supply cart at the service gates.

    “We are holding her in the firewood shed at the back of the manor,” Kailu said. “Should we call Lord Raith?”

    “No,” Soriel said. She stood outside Yulin’s chamber, watching her brother through the open doors.

    Inside, the curtains were open to allow light into the sickroom.

    Yulin lay on the right side of the large bed. Raithion sat on a chair holding Yulin’s right hand, rubbing his son’s fingers between his as though to warm them. The healers were grinding herbs at a table in the corner, their murmurs low in order not to disturb Raithion or Yulin.

    Her brother was dressed in a loose white shirt and wool trousers, his feet bare. His hair was down and uncombed. A dark, unkempt beard covered his jaw. Soriel could not remember the last time she had seen her brother so disheveled.

    Daron, her brother’s trusted butler, hurried down the hallway.

    “Do you have food for him?” Soriel asked.

    “Yes,” Daron said, glancing into the room to find Raithion resting his head on his clasped hands where he held Yulin’s limp, pale hand.

    “Try to get him to eat a few spoonfuls. If he won’t eat, give him soup,” Soriel said. “He’ll get sick sitting by his son’s bed.”

    “I’ll try,” Daron said, then entered the room to see if the healers needed any new supplies.

    Soriel sighed as she watched Raithion a moment longer, then turned to Kailu.

    “Let’s go talk to this Rasa. Mom says the funeral is in two days. We can open the doors now that we’ve found the missing link,” Soriel said. “Let visitors come in. It might stop Benira’s incessant wailing.”

    “I don’t think anything will stop that,” Kailu said, shaking his head.

    Soriel tried not to smile at Kailu’s skeptical tone as she followed him downstairs. As if on cue, Benira’s loud cries reached them as they walked to the back of Raithion’s house. Soriel sighed and prayed for grace from a higher power.

    In the firewood shed, she was surprised to find that she recognized the young woman Kailu and Haedor held in custody. She was dressed in pale green. Her hair was tied in a tight ponytail. She wore no makeup, but her face was striking. She was a beautiful girl. Soriel had seen her walking behind Naeri every time they met for family gatherings.

    “Why would you try to leave the manor while we’re mourning your mistress?” Soriel asked as Miera arranged a chair for her in front of Rasa.

    The firewood was packed in neat stacks on wall-length shelves. The roof was weatherproof to ensure the wood stayed dry. The floors were clean. Raithion’s people did not like clutter. Rasa sat on a mat with a tall shelf behind her back. She was not tied, but she looked disheveled. Her eyes were red from unshed tears.

    Soriel frowned as she studied the younger woman. Miera invited her to sit and she did, facing Rasa.

    “Your mistress has died,” Soriel said, and watched the tears spill from Rasa’s eyes. The girl was sad about Naeri’s death, but not enough to be remorseful. Soriel frowned. Not good. “Naeri was poisoned. A poison the healers cannot find a cure for. For the sake of Yulin, tell me who gave your mistress the poisoned tea.”

    Rasa cried a few more moments, then wiped her tears and met Soriel’s gaze. “If you can prove who did it, I’ll answer all your questions. But I will only talk to Lord Raith about it.”

    “Ha!” Soriel pointed a finger at her and got up. “Then, Kailu, Haedor, your work is cut out for you. Bring all the evidence you can find in this residence. I don’t believe we can’t get this one to talk.”

    ****

    A day before the funeral, Raithion woke up with a start. He sat by Yulin’s bed, his head resting on the covers. Yulin was still asleep. Raithion took his hand, and a pang of panic shifted through him when the boy’s skin felt too cold.

    He got up from his chair and leaned over the boy to check that he was still breathing. A sigh of relief escaped when he felt Yulin’s shallow breath against his cheek. Raithion pressed his palm over Yulin’s forehead, brushing away strands of damp hair before he turned to find Dain hurrying in with a bowl of warm medicine.

    “How is he this morning?” Raithion asked, as he watched Dain move closer and start feeding Yulin the medicine.

    “He’s holding steady. There is no fever. It tells me we have controlled the worst of the poison’s attack. But we still need the antidote,” Dain said. “Your Highness, forgive my forwardness, but staying in this room delays those efforts. Everyone in your residence is lost without you. Please, get out there and find me the antidote. I promise if you bring it, I will save his life.”

    Raithion stepped back from the bed, his gaze on Yulin, who was barely conscious. He had been in this room for three days now. Three days of prayers and hope. He closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, caught between helplessness and anger. For all of Naeri’s faults, this was the hardest trial she had ever put him through, and it wasn’t even her doing.

    Shaking his head, Raithion met Dain’s expectant gaze and then turned and left Yulin’s chambers.

    His attendant, Sharian, met him in the hallway.

    “Update me,” Raithion said.

    “I have moved your belongings to the master bedroom in this residence,” Sharian said. “The hot water is ready for your bath. As for the rest of the house, the funeral is tomorrow. The Spiritual Priest arrives this afternoon to start the funeral rituals. Your mother has arranged accommodations for your in-laws in the main house, which is why we had to move you here. Lord and Lady Ajai are staying there. They are seeking justice for their daughter’s death with every word. Your father arrived late last night. The Basilinna has been helping Kailu and Haedor with investigations. She stepped out of the manor early this morning to return to the palace. She said she would be back for the funeral. Lady Draug is helping your mother with the arrangements. Between them, they are looking after young Princess Skye.”

    “Okay,” Raithion said, suddenly so grateful his family members were strong enough to keep the ship moving when he couldn’t. “I’ll have a bath and dress for the day. Let Haedor find me to update me on the case.”

    “Right away,” Sharian said, opening the door to the master bedroom. The room had been stripped of all items belonging to Naeri.

    His butler, Daron, was quite efficient in the management of the house. He had restored the room to how it looked before Raithion got married.

    Raithion headed to the bathroom, which was tucked in a corner of the master bedroom. The sunken bath was clean and peaceful. Raithion stripped out of his clothes as Sharian opened the large copper taps to let it fill with hot water from the tanks in the kitchen.

    Sharian made sure the water temperature was right by turning on the cold water. Then, when the bath was filled, he left Raithion to his bath. Raithion sank into the hot water and cleaned himself until his mind was clear.

    Refreshed, he got out of the bath wrapped in a white bath cloth. By the bed, he stared at the black clothes, without any form of adornment, waiting for him. He was a widower now. Obligated to mourn his wife, a wife he had fought every single day of their marriage.

    Raithion pushed away the reality of his marriage and focused on dressing: underwear, black trousers, black tunic, and a black leather jacket with silver buttons. He pulled on socks and black leather boots and then sat at the vanity table.

    Sharian brushed his hair into a ponytail, then wrapped it with a black ribbon.

    Raithion did not bother shaving. He thanked Sharian for his help and left the master bedroom. Downstairs, he headed to the dining room where Haedor was already waiting, also dressed in black.

    “Lord Raith,” Haedor said. “I’m glad you’ve come down. We have made progress on the case. There are things we have uncovered that need a delicate hand.”

    “What things?” Raithion asked, accepting a cup of tea from Haedor. Aryn and Sira hurried in with bowls of hot food for the morning meal. Raithion filled his plate without reservation. He felt he needed to eat well to face the coming hours.

    “We found Rasa, who dared us to find evidence and said only then will she talk to you,” Haedor said. “Kailu and I have had all the investigators following up on Rasa’s whereabouts these last few days. My Lord, this lady-in-waiting is suspicious. The more we uncover, the more we find that she is an informant who was dropped into our manor. There are strong indications that she works for Gesi Ajai.”

    “Works for Gesi Ajai,” Raithion repeated as he ate his sweet corn on the cob. An informant working for Gesi Ajai in his manor was not news; what would be insane was if she had caused Naeri’s death. He scoffed. “Wouldn’t he have shot himself in the foot with this if his own people murdered his daughter? Naeri had something she wanted to tell me before she drank her tea.”

    “The carriage Naeri took to her parents belongs to us,” Haedor said. “The driver insists that her ladyship left in the company of her two attendants in the morning, but when she was coming back to the manor, she was running and left Rasa behind, only bringing Callie.”

    “Oh.” Raithion frowned.

    “Kailu will uncover what happened at the Ajai estate,” Haedor said. “For now, I’m focusing on Rasa and what happened when Naeri came back. We’ll have answers by the end of the day.”

    “That’s good news,” Raithion said, sipping his green tea. “It will be good to know what happened before the funeral tomorrow. I need to focus on getting an antidote for Yulin.”

    Haedor let out a sigh at the mention of Yulin, and the weight of it settled on Raithion’s heart.

    “We all hope the little prince can be saved,” Haedor said.

    Then, Thanir Maenaer walked in and Raithion and Haedor stood up.

    “I’ll give you some time alone.” Haedor picked up his teacup and plate and walked out of the dining room.

    Raithion met his father’s gaze, and his resolve fractured when Thanir opened his arms wide. He sank into his father’s embrace and cried, the tears coming even before he could think to fight them. Thanir held him tight, patting his back until he was back in control, then led him to a chair.

    “It’s good to get it out,” Thanir said, handing Raithion a cup of cool water. Raithion drank it in one go, glad for the distraction.

    “Yulin is not doing well,” Raithion said, shaking his head as he placed the cup on the table. “I need to find an antidote.”

    “I heard you have a coroner looking after him.”

    “Dain is the only one I can trust,” Raithion said, shaking his head. “Ajai has had too many spies in this residence. I can’t let healers from the street into the house.”

    “Okay,” Thanir said, then sat down. “These two days will be difficult. Ajai is in the main residence, and half the time he is pushing for us to fight the Prime Minister. I don’t know why he thinks this is something we’re interested in, but you are his focus.”

    “I know,” Raithion said with a nod, wiping a hand down his face.

    “Keep your cool,” Thanir said, “and take the hard line with him. You’re the head of your household. Everything should go as you want it to; don’t let them interfere. The Basileus may attend the funeral after all.”

    “I know,” Raithion said. “Soriel has helped with the investigations. I should thank her for it.”

    “No,” Thanir said. “You’ve been her family’s support; it’s only natural that she is yours, Raith. Don’t think of it.”

    “Dad.”

    “Yes, son,” Thanir said.

    “After the funeral, I need time away from the palace,” Raithion said. “Time to spend with Yulin and Skye. I—I was not happy with how they came about, but now I’m all they’ve got. I need to find a way in my head to be straight with that. I can’t do it if I’m caught up with the palace.”

    “I know,” Thanir said. “I will take over your office, and you can go hold the fort in Draeya.”

    Raithion met Thanir’s gaze and nodded.

    “Don’t worry about Yulin. We’ll do everything we can to find a cure,” Thanir said. “He’s a Maenaer. We look after our own.”

    Thanir studied him for a moment longer then reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “It’s almost over, this thing with Ajai. We’ve got your back. From now on, your personal life is yours, Raith. I won’t interfere again.”

    “What about what we owe Basileus Dio’s father?” Raithion asked.

    “You’ve paid it back tenfold,” Thanir said. “It’s enough for you, Raith. I’ll do the rest if it is needed. Now, let’s eat. I heard you weren’t having enough. You need your strength, son.”

    Raithion nodded, and picked up his fork to eat the eggs on his plate. Thanir called out for a plate and cup and Sharian came in to serve him.

    They ate their meal in silence.

    Then a difficult day started.

    Raithion met his in-laws, and it took everything in him not to scream at Benira when she started crying after one look at him. Gesi Ajai, on the other hand, sat in an armchair in his parents’ great room and glared at Raithion.

    “Your wife was murdered in your house,” Gesi said. “Aren’t you going to seek retribution? The Prime Minister has been fighting my party for years. This is retaliation for our latest disagreements in court. Draeya Prince, are you going to take this sitting down?”

    Raithion wanted to protest Gesi Ajai’s accusation, but then he met his father’s gaze and held his tongue because Thanir shook his head.

    “We are doing all we can to find the culprit,” Haedor answered for Raithion. “We will bring them to justice. Please be patient.”

    “You’ve said that for the last three days. When will the justice start?” Benira asked. “When?”

    “When we’re ready,” Haedor said.

    Raithion sat in an armchair as Benira launched into an hour-long lament about her daughter’s death and how Raithion didn’t love Naeri enough. He could not blame her, and strangely, he felt her tirade was deserved. Then the spiritual priest arrived, and Raithion was glad to immerse himself in the preparation for the funeral rites.

    ****

    As the sun went down on the eve of Naeri’s funeral, Raithion stood by the spiritual priest, who was praying for his wife’s soul. He listened with a blank mind, hoping the heavens would turn their grace to Yulin. The boy was too young to face the consequences of his grandfather’s machinations.

    The spiritual priest finished his prayers for the day and turned to Raithion with kind eyes.

    “The ceremony of burial will start in the morning. Now that all the preparations are ready, it should go smoothly,” he said. “The gravesite is already blessed. Rest well this evening, as it will be a long day, but I promise I’ll get you through it.”

    “Thank you for your efforts, Priest Suner,” Raithion said.

    “I know this is not easy,” Priest Suner said. “This is a difficult moment for you and your children, but with faith giving you strength, you’ll get to the other side. Be strong, Lord Raith.”

    “Thank you,” Raithion said, then turned to his butler, Daron. “Make sure the priest has a warm meal and a place to rest.”

    “We’ve prepared it,” Daron said. “Please, follow me.”

    Raithion waited for the priest to leave, following his butler with his eyes before he turned his attention to his in-laws, who sat in chairs to the left of the large hall, and his own relatives, who filled the chairs to the right.

    Gesi Ajai glared at Thanir Maenaer and had been doing so since the guest lists were finalized for the funeral earlier in the day.

    Raithion held his emotions in check and sat on the chair Haedor turned to face the room. Behind him was the altar where Naeri’s painting stood among flowers arranged in wild abandon by her mother and Silveren. Candles burned day and night, to be extinguished tomorrow after the funeral ended. Naeri’s body was already in a coffin, resting in the ice room at the back of the residence. The carriage that would carry her to the city’s private cemetery was waiting in front.

    “Now that the priest has begun the rites, this family must move as one in the morning,” Raithion said. “There will be no fights during the funeral. I will not allow it.”

    “You won’t allow it, but I will,” Gesi said, his tone abrasive. “My daughter has been poisoned and my grandson is ill. Your family is then planning to entertain the culprit at her funeral tomorrow. It is outrageous.”

    “Who do you think is the culprit?” Noriel asked. She sat next to Silveren in the front row facing the Ajai clan. Beside her was her husband, and she looked every inch the head of the household as she faced Gesi.

    “The Prime Minister,” Gesi Ajai said. “He cannot be allowed to attend my daughter’s funeral.”

    “The accusation is heard, but it is difficult to uphold,” Noriel said. “Lord Ajai, I understand you’re my brother’s father-in-law and the Minister of Finance. But making such an unsolicited accusation will have consequences for the family. It is so wrong that it is unreasonable.”

    “Why does Lady Draug dare to meddle in my daughter’s funeral matters? Don’t you even want to show me some respect?” Gesi Ajai asked, his gaze unkind when he looked at Noriel.

    “You need evidence before you make such a deadly accusation,” Noriel said, her tone firm and unshaken.

    “Speaking of evidence,” Raithion spoke up in support of his sister. “Lord and Lady Ajai have filled this manor with complaints for three days. The more noise we managed, the harder it was to control gossip about Naeri, making this mourning period turn into a circus.”

    Raithion shifted in his chair and rested his hands on the armrests.

    “Naeri is gone. She and I had many disagreements, but if I didn’t think she deserved a cup of poison, no one else had the right,” Raithion said, meeting Gesi Ajai’s gaze. “After all, she sinned most against me. No one here can refute that truth.”

    Benira gasped and covered her mouth with a handkerchief.

    Raithion ignored her dramatics and let out a sigh.

    “While you’ve been coming up with false accusations, we’ve found the villain who has brought black banners to my house,” Raithion said. “Kailu and Haedor, you finish the work.”

    “Yes, Your Highness,” Kailu said, stepping out from behind Raithion’s chair.

    A commotion began at the entrance to the large hall as the officers under Kailu and Haedor dragged in Naeri’s attendants. The three women Naeri brought into the manor were dressed in their daily uniform: purple skirts and white blouses. Their hair was held in tight ponytails. They were crying as Kailu and Haedor made them stand in the space left between the aisles of chairs.

    “What’s the meaning of this?” Benira asked, pointing at the attendants who came from her house. “Why are you harming the ladies who took care of Naeri and the children of this house? Son-in-law, what do you mean by this?”

    Raithion nodded at Kailu, letting him handle the matter.

    “Lady Ajai, please calm down,” Kailu said. “The manor was locked down the moment Her Highness took a sip of her tea and fell in pain. Every servant was thoroughly vetted with the help of the palace guard. Not even a rat was spared in the search. Every person’s whereabouts were accounted for except for two of these ladies.”

    Kailu pointed at the three attendants standing and facing Gesi Ajai, his wife, and the Ajai clan.

    “I’ll ask them for you where they were, as their mistress and the eldest young master of the house drank poison,” Kailu said. He stopped before the first young attendant. “This is Miss Aria. She has been with Her Highness since she entered the Maenaer residence. She has helped raise Yulin and Skye since birth. Where were you when your lady was drinking poisoned tea?”

    “Her Highness left the manor to visit her mother for a period. I was left at home caring for the young Princess Skye. I didn’t know her ladyship was back until an alert was sounded to lock the gates. That’s when I found out Her Highness was poisoned.”

    “Who was with you?” Kailu asked.

    “When her ladyship leaves the residence, I usually take the baby to the main house to spend time with Duchess Maenaer. I was with the staff from Duchess Maenaer’s house in the nursery.”

    “What about your companions?”

    Aria glanced at the two women standing next to her, then sighed. “Rasa and Callie went out with her ladyship. I did not see them again until your officers brought us here.”

    “Thank you, Aria,” Kailu nodded to one of his officers, who led Aria out of the hall. Kailu stopped before the second attendant, who was shaking with nerves. “Your name and what you do.”

    “Callie. I work—worked—for her ladyship.”

    “Where were you when Her Highness was poisoned?” Kailu asked.

    Callie sniffled. “I was in the kitchen in Draeya Prince’s residence. I helped prepare the evening meal. Her Ladyship asked me to help as the residence has been busy with repair work and there was a lot of food to prepare for the extra staff.”

    “Who made the tea Her Ladyship drank?” Kailu asked, and Callie closed her eyes, trembling so hard she almost fell. “Just answer the question the best you can.”

    “I made the tea, my lord,” Callie said, her voice shaking. “But I did not serve it. R-Rasa asked to take the tea to Her Ladyship.”

    “And what kind of tea did you brew?” Kailu asked.

    “It was lemon green tea,” Callie said. “Her Ladyship had been suffering a sore throat of late. I blended the tea myself often to help ease the discomfort. This was obviously because I cared for her. I would never harm her or the young prince. You must believe me. I don’t know how the lemon green tea turned into poison.”

    “You don’t know, but others do,” Kailu said, shaking his head. “The person to prove Callie’s words is a mason who was fixing the window ledges on the hallway from the kitchen to the great room. Call him in.”

    The mason walked into the hall, wearing a clean white tunic and dark trousers. His hair was gathered into a low ponytail, a rough man hoping to shine in a roomful of nobles. He was mildly nervous, but he stood next to Kailu with confidence.

    “State your name.” Kailu’s tone was kind even as it carried the weight of authority.

    “I’m Jaxon. The mason in charge of the hallway leading to the great room from the kitchen. I worked with two helpers. We were working the afternoon of her ladyship’s poisoning. A commotion started between two attendants near the kitchen entrance. One tripped the other, and the tea kettle on a tray fell and spilled the contents. Then this one,” Jaxon pointed to Rasa, “she came from outside and solved the problem with a new pot, asking one of my men to throw away the broken tea kettle. Instead of throwing away the pieces, we kept them because the porcelain from the tea kettle is expensive and can be used to decorate things. My Lord, I have already handed over the teapot shards to you.”

    Kailu raised his right hand, and two of his attendants brought two trays. One carried the shards of the broken porcelain teapot; the other carried the remnants of the tea Callie made still in a silver tea kettle.

    “Callie, you were lucky the remaining lemon green tea was still in the kitchen after the accident. We found the last of it in the silver tea kettle you used to make the original batch. Your testimony is true, but your tea never made it to the great room. Instead, it was changed into the tea of death by Rasa.” Kailu turned to the door and nodded.

    The coroner walked in with the teapot and the two cups Naeri used on the day she died.

    “I’m a direct person,” Kailu said when the coroner stood next to him.

    Kailu dismissed Callie and the mason from the room with a nod then turned to Gesi Ajai’s family.

    “Explaining the point of poisoned teapots and cups, I will do it with a few words. A trusted attendant dared to bring poison into Lord Raith’s residence and fed it to her mistress and the residence’s heir,” Kailu said. “It is simply said, but the problem is too complex because of who Lord Raith is and who Her Highness was. So, I can only bring out the coroner before you so he can tell you what plagues Prince Yulin, keeping him to his bed on the edge of life. Perhaps Rasa will offer a solution to the poison. Coroner, you start. What is in the tea?”

    “My lord, the tea has datura, or what we call the devil’s trumpet, and a blend of exotic herbs. There are two I suspect are from the Nerasa Kingdom, and all of them are toxic,” Dain said. “We have given Prince Yulin activated charcoal to fight the worst of the poison attack, but we need an antidote. If the Prince stays in his current state longer, he will die.”

    Benira started crying, painful sobs that were difficult to ignore.

    Raithion closed his eyes, fighting the urge to take over Kailu’s job. He gripped the armchair handles tight and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

    “Lady Ajai,” Raithion said, his voice low, barely above a growl. “If you keep sobbing, when will Kailu gain the answers he seeks for the justice you want for your daughter? Will you shut up for a period?”

    The hall went quiet, and Benira stared at him with shocked, wide eyes.

    “Kailu, finish it,” Raithion said, ignoring the accusations in Benira’s eyes.

    “Yes, Your Highness,” Kailu said and turned to Rasa. “Lady Rasa, Her Highness put all her trust in you. When she married into the Maenaer residence, no one here would object if you were to be called her sister. She gave you that respect and forced us all who live under the Maenaer name to afford you the same. Do you agree?”

    “I agree,” Rasa said in a soft, defeated voice.

    “Why would you harm Her Highness?” Kailu asked. “Why would you feed her poisoned tea?”

    Rasa shook her head, looking at Gesi Ajai, then at Benira, then, to everyone’s surprise, she turned and rushed toward Raithion with a desperate energy. Kailu caught her shoulder just as she reached Raithion.

    Kailu forced her to her knees, and Raithion stayed still, not having moved an inch.

    “Your Highness, please, you must take me in. I did all this for you,” Rasa said. “For you, Your Highness!”

    “For me?” Raithion asked with a small chuckle. “How is it for me when I have to plan a funeral and deal with my in-laws’ wrath? How is it for me when Yulin is poisoned and dying in his bed?”

    “I’ll marry you and give you a new heir,” Rasa said, her eyes bright with hope and a madness Raithion had not expected from her. “I’ve helped Naeri run this house for five years since she entered it. I watched her trick you to gain heirs one after the other. I even helped spike the bathwater for her to get Skye. But you, your heart never opened to her. You were kind to me. Always nice, looking for me to tell me what you wanted from her. I know everything about you, Your Highness. You weren’t happy with her. I know I can change it all. I’ll be better than her. I’ll be your Commandery Princess. Choose me, Lord Raith.” Rasa smiled wide. “All the people you truly care for call you Lord Raith.”

    “What poison did you give them?” Raithion asked. “If you tell me what it is, I can listen to more of your plans. Quick, tell me what kind of treasure you found for Naeri?”

    “You’ll never guess,” Rasa chuckled. “But you’re so handsome, Lord Raith. I couldn’t stand her touching you. Your eyes, your face, your kisses, she didn’t deserve them. I’ll tell you because I know you like to know the truth before you give anyone a chance. You have to give me one now. It was Silver Malice. So difficult to put together because the herbs are hard to get.”

    The coroner gasped, and Raithion forced himself to keep his gaze on Rasa, not wanting to lose her attention.

    “Is there an antidote?” Raithion asked, his voice gentle, careful, a lover’s caress.

    “I’m sure the Nerasa Kingdom has one,” Rasa said with a shrug. “But it’s not easy to brew. You need a skilled healer for it. I was never concerned with the antidote. I just wanted it for my own purpose. I was tired of serving Naeri. She was like a baby who needed to be guided through every step of her life. It was exhausting.”

    Raithion stood then, grabbed her by her collar, and pulled her to Gesi Ajai, throwing her with one swift move.

    “Here is the reason why we’re mourning,” Raithion said, glaring at Gesi Ajai and Benira. “The culprit is from your house. You take responsibility for what happens to her. I can’t be bothered. My orders stand. The funeral will continue as planned. No one will fight tomorrow, and I don’t want to hear one accusation against the Prime Minister again.”

    Benira’s sobs broke out and Raithion was done with it. He left the large hall with Kailu, Haedor, and the coroner following him. Outside in the corridor, Raithion turned to the coroner.

    “What the hell is Silver Malice?” Raithion asked.

    Dain still held the tray with the poisoned tea. His expression grim as he faced Raithion.

    “A poison found in the Nerasa Kingdom,” Dain said. “I read about it in my master’s library. It’s a blend of deadly herbs called harrow, mutagen, and datura. It’s a good thing we saved the tea, because the antidote needs part of that tea. I don’t know how to make it. We need an expert. You won’t like to hear this, but there is an apothecary in the business district who may know how to do it.”

    “Find the apothecary. Bring him or her here,” Raithion said. “Hurry.”

    “Yes, Your Highness,” Dain said and ran out of the house, followed by two officers assigned by Haedor.

    “Rasa.” Raithion shook his head. “A snake slithering in my house and making up a play.”

    “You shouldn’t have given her over to Gesi Ajai,” Kailu said.

    “It was on purpose. Gesi Ajai has no choice but to deal with her after she’s killed his daughter. Following what happens to her is something we can use. We still need information on why Naeri came running home,” Raithion said, leading the way out of the main house. “Assign a team of ten luckless men to the Ajai property. I want to know what he is eating for his midnight snack and the temperature of his bathwater before it happens.”

    “Yes, My Lord.” Kailu left him, and Raithion stopped on the path to his residence, suddenly afraid.

    Rasa’s gaze as she said she hadn’t cared about the antidote worried him. His son’s life…

    “We’ll get the cure,” Haedor said, placing a hand on his right shoulder as though to steady him. “We’ll find it and Yulin will be saved.”

    Raithion closed his eyes, nodded, then continued his walk into the house, hurrying upstairs to check on Yulin. He had been away too long.

    ****

    The next morning, the gates at the Maenaer Manor opened early. Guests arrived at eight in the morning; those who were to be seated were shone into the great hall, others into the many sitting areas arranged in the courtyard.

    The spiritual priest started the funeral rites. Raithion, his parents and Naeri’s parents all stood at the front dressed in black.

    When the rites ended, six legion officers led by Haedor and Kailu carried the casket out to the carriage, and a procession began to the outskirts of the city, where the private cemetery was located. The burial lasted the whole afternoon, and by the time Raithion returned to the manor, he was mentally and physically exhausted. He wanted to close the doors and shut out the world, but he could not do that, the guests needed to be fed, his colleagues wanted to sit and drink with him.

    At around ten in the night, Dain brought the apothecary he had been searching for, and Raithion got a moment to escape the visitors.

    Dain led the apothecary to a private office in Raithion’s house.

    “What does the apothecary need to create an antidote?” Raithion asked, glancing at the old man seated on a chair in his office. “If you tell us, we’ll get it.”

    “The antidote herbs are easy to get for a man of your means,” the apothecary said. “It’s the method that is the problem. The only person I’ve heard skilled enough to make an antidote lived on the Sura Clan’s island.”

    Dain and Haedor both sucked in air at the mention of the Sura Clan Island. No one had talked about the Sura in the capital after five years.

    Raithion crouched before the apothecary, looking into his eyes, searching for deception, but the old man was honest, and held his gaze without flinching.

    “Silver Malice is deadly,” the apothecary said. “Even a small amount will drain your energy and keep harming your organs until you can’t wake up again. The healer from the Sura Clan had some experience because they traded with the Nerasa Kingdom. I don’t know what became of them, but you will need to find a Sura Clan member to tell you what to do.”

    “What is the name of this healer from the Sura?” Haedor asked.

    “Lasma,” the apothecary said. “She was a healer’s daughter.”

    “And the Chieftain’s wife,” Raithion said, his voice low. Azula’s mother.

    “What do we do now?” Haedor asked Raithion.

    “I need to visit the Basileus in the morning. I’ll get his permission to travel to the Sura Island,” Raithion said.

    “Do you think the Sura will be willing to help?” Haedor asked, his tone skeptical.

    Raithion smiled at the old apothecary and rose to his feet. “If they don’t want to, I’ll have to find a way to persuade them.”

    ****

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  • Blades of Ashes Ch 11-1

    Soriel entered Basileus Dio’s office in the afternoon with a joyous wave for his staff.

    Dio stopped reading the reports from the military office and gave her his full attention. His wife looked radiant in a pink dress that whispered and shimmered with every step. Her long black hair fell down her back, pinned with butterfly clips that caught the light when she moved. She approached his desk with a smile meant only for him.

    He pushed his chair back, and pleasure spread through him when she perched on his lap and wrapped an arm around his shoulders as she settled. The scent of roses filled his senses. He buried his nose into her shoulder and closed his eyes, savoring her warmth.

    No wonder his mother said Soriel had bewitched him. He could not argue with the truth of it.

    His heartbeat belonged to Soriel Maenaer. Her love was uncomplicated, fearless, and sure, an anchoring certainty in a world of shifting alliances. She had given him a son in the five years they had been married, but she had also given him something rarer: a partnership that did not bend. If he was bewitched, then he hoped to stay lost.

    “My love,” Soriel said softly, stroking her fingers through his hair. “I want to go home tomorrow. There is news that my brother has returned from the border, and I want to see him at his house.”

    “Your brother is back. He can come visit us in the palace,” Dio said, wrapping his arms around Soriel and holding her close, as though his body could make her change her mind. “I haven’t seen him in months.”

    “I’m sure he’ll come to report to you,” Soriel said. “But I want to talk to him about his wife, Naeri. They have become too estranged. Mom says they are not doing well. It will hurt the children if they don’t find a solution. A while back, I thought I should bring Yulin to the palace so he could play with our son, but we have problems of our own with Mother-in-law.”

    Soriel let out a sigh and rested her weight against him. Dio felt her worry, her responsibility, the way she carried family as though it were both shield and crown.

    “Well.” Dio raised his head from her shoulder and leaned back to meet Soriel’s troubled gaze when she sat up. “What do you think they should do?”

    “I don’t know,” Soriel said, shaking her head. “Naeri is not an easy sister-in-law. She won’t talk to Noriel or me. She only leans on our mother when she thinks it will force Raithion to do something. I’m at a loss, Dio. Mom thinks she should send Raithion’s children to our ancestral home in Draeya. I think it’s a good idea, but it is cruel to separate children from their mother. What do you think?”

    Dio wished he had an easy solution for Soriel. He felt responsible for Raithion’s current predicament. He had heard the stories of Noriel’s attempts to secure her position in Raithion’s home: using potent aphrodisiac drugs to push Raithion into compliance so she could give birth to a Maenaer heir. Raithion’s reaction to his wife’s actions was extreme. He escaped the city in favor of border inspections, vanishing into duty.

    It made Dio wonder if he had broken something in Raithion’s life when he chose what the kingdom demanded over what a man might have wanted.

    “Soriel,” Dio said quietly, taking her right hand and turning it in his own as he played with the red jade ring on her index finger.

    He had given her the ring during their wedding, making her his wife and the Basilinna of the Kingdom of Lyria. The smile on her face that day still lived in him, bright as a vow, sharp as a promise. Raithion’s toast for his sister’s happiness also lingered in his thoughts, refusing to fade.

    What had Raithion said?

    “Soriel, may you always be happy with your chosen love…”

    Chosen love, Dio thought with a frown, the words turning in his mind like a blade.

    “Do you think your brother had someone he loved before his engagement to Lady Naeri?” Dio asked, meeting Soriel’s worried gaze.

    She studied him for a minute, then her gaze drifted to their clasped hands.

    “I once thought so,” Soriel said, her voice low, as though afraid the people beyond Dio’s office door would hear. “Especially when he came back after the Sura purge, but there are no clues.”

    “No clues don’t mean one doesn’t exist,” Dio said with a sigh. “I’ve wronged your big brother for the sake of our family.”

    “Does this mean you’ll let me see him?” Soriel asked. “Yulin and Skye need help. I’m their auntie. There’s nothing to do but find a way for them to grow up happy.”

    “I know,” Dio said. “You can visit him. But he should also come to see his Basileus when he manages his affairs at home. Tell him I want to see him.”

    Soriel kissed his cheek, and Dio smiled, softened in a way he allowed only her to witness. “I’ll tell him. I’ll take Rane with me so he can play with his grandmother and cousin. It will be good for Yulin. You make sure to eat on time. If you can’t stand being at a table with Mother-in-law, go visit Auntie Sanan and Dowager Grandmother. She is always eager to feed you.”

    “I feel like you’re planning to leave me for many days,” Dio complained, tightening his arms around Soriel. The words were petulant, but the truth beneath them was not. “Won’t you miss me in your bed? How about I sneak into the Maenaer manor…” His voice trailed off as he leaned in to kiss her cheeks, angling for her lips.

    “Dio,” Soriel said. “Behave yourself. We are in your office. Your attendants could walk in at any minute. And I’d like to see you sneak into a house with my brother and father there.”

    “I’m not worried. I married you fair and square,” Dio complained, and finally he kissed her lips, smiling against her mouth as he swallowed Soriel’s soft chuckle. Her laughter always felt like victory, sweet, private, and entirely his.

    A knock on the door interrupted their kiss, and Dio sighed when Soriel hid her face in his shoulder as though it might hide her blush.

    “Yes,” Dio said, lifting his gaze. He was surprised to find Theod Dorn, head of the palace guard, standing at his door with a panicked expression. “What is it, Theod?”

    “There’s been a development at the Maenaer Manor,” Theod said, making Soriel sit up to look at him despite her blush-stained cheeks.

    “What development?” Soriel asked.

    “Um.” Theod hesitated, then entered the office and held out a note to Dio.

    Soriel grabbed it first and unrolled it. It took her a moment before she jumped off Dio’s lap in alarm and handed the note to Dio.

    Dio read the note aloud. “Commandery Princess poisoned. Draeya Prince has locked down the manor.”

    “I have to go home,” Soriel said, already turning to leave.

    “Wait. I’ll go with you,” Dio said, dropping the note on his desk as he started after her.

    “No.” Soriel stopped him with a gentle hand on his chest when he reached her. She looked at Theod, then let out a controlled breath. “This is not as simple as it sounds. My brother has returned home, and now his wife is poisoned. We have been dealing with Lord Gesi Ajai’s machinations in the court for the last six months as he finds a way to weaken our bond and the traction we’ve built in the court. Raithion’s wife is Gesi Ajai’s daughter. This is not so simple.”

    “The Basilinna is right,” Theod said, giving Dio a firm nod.

    “You stay,” Soriel said. “Look after our son. Let him stay with Princess Sanan and Dowager Grandmother if you need to go to court. I’ll manage my brother’s house.”

    “What if it’s dangerous?” Dio asked, pulling Soriel into his arms.

    “I have guards to protect me,” Soriel said, her voice steady. She did not flinch from danger. “Don’t worry.”

    She leaned up and kissed him on his lips, a sweet kiss that had Theod turning away at once, offering them the dignity of privacy.

    “Gesi Ajai has been unable to hurt us,” Soriel said, the certainty in her tone making Dio’s chest tighten with pride and unease in equal measure. “So, he’s gone after my brother. I’ll go help Raith however I can. After all, thanks to him, we’ve become a bit stronger.”

    “You’re right,” Dio said, hugging Soriel tight for a moment, as though he could lend her his strength through skin and breath. “All right. Call me if you need help. Keep me updated.”

    “I will,” Soriel said and rushed out of Dio’s office.

    Theod watched her leave with admiration, then turned to Dio.

    “Draeya Prince and Gesi Ajai are about to lock horns,” Theod said. “Are you satisfied?”

    “I’m apprehensive,” Dio said, moving to look out the windows at the bright garden. He caught sight of Soriel running along a path toward Rose Hall so she could change for her trip out of the palace. Even hurried, she moved with purpose, like a woman born to command.

    “My wife is very attached to her family. I’ve tried to win her brother’s confidence, but Raithion has been closed off for five years. He marches to orders without question, and my tenure as Basileus has gained strength thanks to his efforts,” Dio said with a sigh. “Raithion’s determination to clean out military ranks within the capital city, Genad, and at the border has left Gesi Ajai without a route to manipulate cases in court, the economy he almost ruined, and even my palace staff.”

    “Draeya Prince has held up the front against Gesi Ajai,” Theod said. “It has left his family life open to Gesi Ajai.”

    “We are now in a critical moment,” Dio said. “I can only hope Raithion makes it to the other side, and whatever Gesi Ajai does will not rob him of more.” His voice lowered. “I have sinned, Theod. Do you think Raithion will ever forgive me?”

    “That’s up to fate,” Theod said.

    Dio nodded once.

    “Tell the silent guard to support Draeya Prince and the Basilinna however they can,” Dio said. “I want this resolved as fast as possible.”

    “I’ll tell them,” Theod said.

    ****

    Soriel rode her horse hard, followed by Meira and Vanya and the formal guard from the palace as they headed for her parents’ manor. She was dressed in black, a dark veil with gold embroidery covering her hair and part of her face to keep interested eyes from lingering too long. Nervous energy coursed through her veins as she thought about her brother and his estranged wife, Naeri. What bad fate had Raith triggered to have so many problems at home?

    She turned onto the affluent street that led to their manor and slowed when a ruckus met them like a wall. A woman was wailing loudly, calling out to the gathering crowd with the practiced desperation of someone who knew exactly where shame landed hardest.

    “They have poisoned my daughter to death and won’t let me enter to see her. Look what they have done. She was fine this morning. We had a lovely meal together, and now they say she is poisoned. What kind of in-laws are these? They won’t let me see my daughter.” Her voice broke, then sharpened again. “What about my grandchildren? How can I be sure they are fine in a place where their mother was poisoned?”

    The wailing woman stared at the closed gates as if grief alone should force them open. She cried louder, dragging the crowd into her pain until the murmurs turned into demands. Voices rose. Insults snapped against the closed wooden gates like thrown stones.

    Vanya got off her horse, handed the reins to one of her sisters, and hurried ahead, melting into the crowd. Soriel dismounted, followed by Meira. The team of ten guards did the same and waited by a low wall until Vanya returned.

    Vanya came back minutes later, shaking her head.

    “It is Lady Benira,” Vanya said. “The Commandery Princess’s mother. She has been here for an hour. The manor doors were already locked when they arrived. Draeya Prince’s guard won’t open without an order from him. She is making a ruckus to force the doors open.”

    “So petty,” Soriel said, though her eyes hardened as she watched the crowd swell with borrowed outrage. Raithion likely had his hands full with his wife inside the manor. The locked doors would be a security measure. Soriel’s mouth tightened. “Has my sister arrived?”

    “Yes. Lady Draug is already inside,” Vanya said with a wince. “She is part of the reason Lady Benira is causing a fuss. Apparently, the guards allowed Lady Draug in without much issue, but they won’t let Lady Benira inside. She thinks it is because Lady Draug is a Maenaer and she is not.”

    “Grinding gossip to make our family look bad,” Soriel said, adjusting her gloves with deliberate care. She looked to Meira. “Let’s go deal with this one. Vanya, I’ll leave you to manage the crowd. Clear this place after we enter and send anyone who wants to make a scene to the side entrance.”

    “Yes, my lady,” Vanya said.

    Soriel steadied herself and stepped into the clamoring crowd that was now shouting insults at her family’s main gates. Meira flanked Soriel, watchful and ready, while Vanya and her team guarded the rear.

    “How dare a noble family keep a mother away from her child when she is in trouble?” someone called out. “Worse than dogs.”

    “Duchess Maenaer,” Benira called out, her voice dripping with tears. “Let me see my daughter. How can you keep me away from her like this? Is it because we come from a lowly family? I will kneel down to beg you to open the door. Do you dare see me beg?”

    “And why can’t she dare to see you beg?” Soriel asked, her voice cold as she stepped out to face Benira Ajai. “What do you think she is guilty of, that she doesn’t dare to face you?”

    Benira turned eyes red and gleaming, and snapped as though Soriel were only another obstacle.

    “And who are you to meddle where you know nothing?” Benira asked.

    Her gaze flicked over Soriel’s veil and black attire with contempt.

    “Lady Noriel walked into the manor not thirty minutes ago, and no one dared stop her. What of me? Where is their recognition of my place as the Commandery Princess’s mother? Are they looking down on me? Don’t I have a right to demand attention from my son-in-law?” Her voice rose, aimed at the crowd as much as Soriel. “Who are you to question me?”

    Soriel narrowed her gaze as she took in the crowd of attendants clustered behind Benira, five visible at Benira’s shoulders, and more pressing at the edges of the crowd. Then, with a soft scoff, Soriel pushed the veil back to reveal her face.

    The shift was immediate.

    Benira’s breath caught. Her expression faltered as recognition struck. She gasped.

    “I am the youngest daughter in the Maenaer clan,” Soriel said, her smile small and controlled. “Am I not allowed to question you when you slander my mother in front of such a large crowd?”

    “Your Majesty,” Benira said at once, pressing her right hand to her chest and bowing her head.

    The crowd quieted as if a hand had closed around their throats. Then, as if waking, they followed Benira’s lead: bows, murmurs, whispers threaded with excitement.

    “Your Majesty,” they repeated, the words spreading through them like sudden fear.

    Benira glanced up with apprehension, even as she pressed a handkerchief to her eye as though to wipe away tears. The performance did not stop, but it changed.

    Soriel smirked and climbed two steps so she could face the onlookers Benira had gathered at the Maenaer front gate.

    “My brother’s wife has been poisoned,” Soriel said, her voice carrying the weight of authority. “I, too, have received a message and have come to see how I can help. We do not know how or why this happened, but I can imagine the Draeya Prince has locked the manor doors to capture the culprit.” Her gaze swept the crowd, steady, unafraid of their earlier insults. “Anyone would move quickly to discover who has harmed a member of their family. I beg you not to speculate until more information is provided.”

    “What about Lady Benira?” someone called out. “Why not let her in?”

    “Look. She came to call on my mother’s house with over ten attendants. If I were investigating a crime, I would want to clear those inside first before I had to clear the ten attendants coming along with others,” Soriel said, and she did not soften her voice. She let the truth stand like stone. Her eyes slid to Benira and the attendants hovering behind her. “Surely one or two will be fine. It is not like the Draeya Prince can’t afford attendants in his house. We all want the culprit caught.” Soriel’s gaze sharpened, pinning Benira where she stood. “Or isn’t that what you want, Lady Benira?”

    “I-I—” Benira began, then stopped, caught between the crowd and the Basilinna, her mouth suddenly unable to keep pace with her scheme.

    “Her Majesty speaks sense,” someone in the crowd said. “Surely you’d want the investigator to catch the culprit in time. Adding more people will delay the work.”

    “That’s true.”

    “But why did Lady Draug enter?”

    “She brought one attendant,” someone else answered, “a girl who is from the Maenaer home to begin with. They know them.”

    “Mm, that makes sense. Even Her Majesty has only brought one attendant with her. What’s with Lady Benira’s horde of attendants?”

    Soriel raised her hand slightly, and the crowd’s noise dipped, as if they were conditioned to obey without realizing it.

    “Okay,” Soriel said. “I’ll vouch for Lady Benira to enter the manor with me, but I can only take one attendant of hers inside. We need to cooperate with my brother’s efforts to catch the culprit.” She looked directly at Benira, leaving no room for argument. “Isn’t that right, Lady Benira?”

    “Yes,” Benira said, her voice suddenly small.

    “Let’s all wait for news,” Soriel told the crowd. “I’ll make sure the truth is laid out to everyone in a clean manner. I, too, want to know who would dare harm our family members.”

    Soriel turned to the guard standing at the Maenaer front gates and produced her entry token. The guard nodded and knocked on the gate.

    Soriel was not surprised to see Kailu and Haedor waiting for them as the gates opened.

    “Your Majesty, we were just about to open for Lady Benira when she started the ruckus,” Kailu said.

    “Don’t worry about it,” Soriel said, keenly aware of Lady Benira hurrying behind her with one attendant while the others were held back by Vanya and her team. Soriel’s voice stayed level, but her pace did not slow. “How is my brother’s family?”

    The gates closed behind them, sealing out the noise, and Kailu let out a soft sigh.

    “I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” Kailu said. “It is bad news. Her Highness has been poisoned to death. Prince Yulin is poisoned, too. The healers are inside working to save him. Lady Silveren has started preparing the Commandery Princess’s funeral.”

    Benira let out a grief-stricken scream, sharp enough to scrape the air. Her attendant held her tight as she swayed, suddenly a mother again instead of a woman wielding scandal as a weapon.

    Soriel winced at the tragedy and closed her eyes for a heartbeat, one breath to feel it, one breath to set it aside, because a Basilinna could mourn later.

    “Haedor,” Soriel said, opening her eyes, calm and commanding, “lead Lady Benira into the house to see my mother.”

    Haedor nodded to Benira’s attendant, who led the grieving woman to follow him into the main house.

    Soriel’s gaze shifted to Kailu, then to the house, to the unseen corridors where her brother waited. “Where is my brother?”

    “He is with Prince Yulin,” Haedor said. “He has asked Kailu and me to find the culprit. Lady Silveren is busy with the funeral arrangements, while Noriel is assisting her. We need someone to report to as we find clues.”

    “I’ll take over,” Soriel said, and the words landed like a decree. She glanced at Meira. “Send a message to Lord Ajai and to my husband about the Commandery Princess’s fate.”

    Meira nodded and hurried away to find the manor’s aviary to send a message.

    Soriel turned to Kailu. “I’ll see my brother first, then you can report your findings to me.” Her eyes hardened with purpose. “We need to close this case before the funeral if my brother is to have peace from his in-laws. Let’s get it done.”

    “Yes, Your Majesty,” Kailu said, leading her to Raithion’s house.

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