Page 30 of Blood Slumberm

“I…did many things I am no longer proud of. I butchered my enemies and celebrated afterward. If not for my men, I don’t know what I would have become.”

“You were close to your soldiers?”

“They were my true family.”

“Will you tell me about them?”

“One night. When I can.”

She didn’t press, only laid her head on his chest. It seemed her capacity for affection was as boundless as her passions and her grudges. Somehow these nights of sharing lust and murder had awakened her tenderness, too.

He buried his hand in her hair. “When my father died, I was torn about reconciling with my mother. Her invitation to my coronation lay unsent while I debated with myself.” He cleared his throat. “It was still lying there on my desk when I received word that she had died.”

“Your grief runs in my veins.”

For the first time, those words held meaning for Troi.

“When my mourning period was over, I held my coronation feast. Hespera’s seat at the banquet was indeed empty. All the Orders sent their chosen representatives. Little did I know the mage of Anthros who said the blessing over my table was Rixor I’s brother.”

“Oh gods.”

“Of course, he gave up his titles when he became a mage. They all swear they leave behind worldly concerns when they enter the temple, including the feud between our dynasties.”

She snorted. “We know they seek that religious authority precisely so they can wield it as a new weapon in the feud.”

“Rixor had been trying to conquer Galeo for years, and I had defeated him on the battlefield time and time again. So his brother poisoned me in my own house.” Troi lifted his hand to display the ring. “My mother left me this when she died. Her final words to me were in a letter, instructing me that if there was ever a time when all hope was lost, I should shed my blood on this stone. As I lay dying, I was finally desperate enough to take the risk.”

“What did the ring do?”

“It summoned an ancient Hesperine armed to his very sharp teeth.”

“Well, you must have truly thought you were going to die, then.”

Troi laughed. “Rudhira the Blood-Red Prince inspires either terror or adoration wherever he goes. He’s a Hesperine errant who leaves Orthros to travel in mortal lands, sabotaging the Orders and protecting the persecuted. So there he was, the most powerful prince of the Hesperines, looming over me in his scarlet battle robes with a massive longsword in his hands. I thought he was going to hasten my death by lopping off my head.”

Celandine pushed up on her elbow, clearly engrossed in his tale. “How did you convince him to spare you?”

“I didn’t have to. He put away his sword and cast a healing spell on me instead. I learned that night that the women of my line had aided him in his quests. That invoked what Hesperines call a bond of gratitude, which must be honored. When my body proved too damaged by the poison for me to survive as a mortal, he took me back to Orthros. His comrade Apollon took me under his wing and offered me the Gift.”

Apollon had always said he had seen some of himself in Troi. He supposed they had both gone too far down the warrior’s path in the past.

“So you stayed in Orthros with them?” Celandine asked.

“For one purpose only: to master my power so I could kill Rixor and his brother. I trained with Rudhira and Apollon until I finally felt prepared to face my enemies.”

“That’s how you came to be in the manor.”

“Yes. Ten years to the day after my mortal life ended, I returned to Cordium to find that my worst fears had come to pass. Rixor I had taken over everything from my father’s lands to my mother’s house. I burst into his summer feast to tear himapart with my bare hands. He fled like a coward with his guests while his brother stayed behind to face me, as in the tales. It was a long, bitter battle. I fought with more anger than strategy, and once again, I found myself on the verge of defeat.”

“How did you survive?”

“My wounds, bleeding inside my mother’s ancestral home, brought about something I never thought possible. My blood woke the Sanctuary wards, the most rare and powerful of Hespera’s protection spells.”

“Didn’t the Orders hunt down every Sanctuary mage during the Last War over fifteen hundred years ago?” Celandine asked.

“Yes, but the sites where they died are where their magic lives on most powerfully. One of my mother’s ancestors was a Sanctuary mage who sacrificed herself in her own home so her spells would endure to protect her descendants.”

“So it was her magic that barricaded you safely inside.”

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