Page 64 of Vathia
My voice comes out gruff yet more tender than I’ve ever heard it, shocking me. “Go on Little Warrior, get some rest.”
She nods and slips her hand into Aemon’s as he follows her. I watch her leave and Jesper slides up beside me.
“She’s something, isn’t she?” he says joyfully, with a type of reverence I’ve only heard him use with her.
I stare down at the small imprint of her hand. “She’s more precious than any gem this realm has to offer.”
THE BLACKSMITH AND I work late into the night and, at last, he places the final gem into the center of the custom hilt.
“The sugilite gems will suit her well,” he says as he steps back from the sword, the black blade with silver and bronze veins resting on the table between us. The purple stone works beautifully with the overall appearance of the blade.
I grunt in acknowledgement as I pick up the sword, sliding it into a specially made sheath, then wrapping it in a blanket. Aemon, Jesper and I all pitched in to pay the smith for his work; even Talyn slipped some in there when he thought we weren’t looking.
He shakes his head. “No, it was an honor crafting a sword of this caliber for our Queen. She was a pleasure to work with. I couldn’t take payment.”
I drop the pouch of coins onto his work table. “She would be offended if you weren’t paid for your work.” And she would be. I remember when her parents let us out into the city of Maleen; fledgelings are treasured, and even more so their princess, so there wasn’t any risk to us. Everywhere we went they tried to waive payment, and she demanded that they take her coin. I don’t think that has changed even now, and she would have my balls if I didn’t pay the male.
“If you’re sure,” he says slowly, glancing hesitantly at the coin pouch.
“You’re saving my balls,” I tell him seriously.
He chuckles at that. “Well, tell her thank you, and if she needs any more metalwork done, I’d be more than happy to assist.”
I dip my head in acknowledgement and leave the forge, deciding to head to the inn and get some rest before the long trip in just a few hours.
THE FLIGHT IS long indeed—it’s taken us a few days to get to the front line. The skies are clear and the realm seems quiet. Too quiet. It is like the kingdom itself is holding its breath.
Voissor’s red scales glint beneath me as we soar over the large encampment that holds Vathian troops. Blue and white banners of Aemon’s province are prominent even from these great heights while canopy tents, both large and small, cover the ground.
Ahead, Talyn signals our wing to land on the southern part of the encampment, ensuring that first we fly over the entirety of the troops to inform them of our arrival—even though they likely knew before we left the embankment of the clouds.
Voissor’s voice rumbles through me. “Mmm. The air smells of violence. My teeth are ready to shred our enemies and protect our mates. When shall we battle?”
My fists tighten on the reins as we land, and we make sure to squeeze between Vasari and Evisdor—clingy bastard. “We are just here to check things out and boost morale,” I remind him, before dismounting.
He’s been even more bloodthirsty than normal since he’s reconnected with his mate. It doesn’t surprise me thatour beasts’ mate matches the riders’. Fate seems to work mysteriously that way, but it has been frustrating trying to keep my magick in check when it craves violence.
I leave him to his grumbling as I move away from him and toward the others.
Before any of us can open our mouths the Vathian army general comes striding out between the tents heading in our direction, with two others flanking his side. “Lord Aemon, thank you so much for coming. I see you brought others.” His gaze brushes past myself and the others before landing on Ravina. “And a female,” he states, shock coating his tone. “I wasn’t aware you added a female to your wing. It wasn’t stated in any of the reports.”
Ravina places her hands on her hips and raises a brow at the male and I barely hold back the smirk at her small display of offense.
“It’s a new development,” Aemon says in a low tone. “We thought a visit from the future Queen of Damorleia would be an even better morale booster than the united provincial heirs would,” he casually adds, as he and Jesper rest their hands on the pommels of their blades.
The general’s gaze widens before whispering. “Princess Maeven Pendroko? You’re saying the rumors are true?”
Her eyes harden at the name, but she gives a slight dip of her chin. “I prefer to go by Ravina now. We should really send out a notice or something,” she mutters under her breath.
He drops onto his knee. “Your Majesty, please forgive me. The troops are not up to par for a royal visit—”
She raises her hand, silencing him, gesturing for him to rise. “There’s no need for theatrics; we are at war. I don’t expect a grand welcome. I just need the tyranny of the Lords to come to an end so our citizens can be at peace again.” What the male doesn’t hear is the undercurrent of the need for revenge inher voice, but I’m all too familiar with it. We all are. “Is there somewhere we can speak privately?”
We know the plan and we know how hard stepping into this role is going to be for her, but we all agreed—even Talyn—that she will need to earn the respect of the general and the army. She needs to act like a Queen. She needs to become a leader. Which means we need to be a united front.
“Of course, your Majesty. This way, please.” He spins and strides back the way he came and Ravina follows, not looking behind to make sure that we are following. She knows we will.
We fall into step, flanking her sides but slightly behind her, and I can’t help but keep my gaze glued to her. Her shoulders are stiff as are the rest of her movements, and I’m positive it’s not the armor she dons but the fact that even though she was raised for this role, she didn’t remember until the short time ago her memories were released. As familiar as the protocols are to her, I’m sure it’s uncomfortable, but she’s doing great. She knows she has us to help guide her through this.
