Chapter 11

Chapter

Eleven

TRESSYA

I was eating breakfast in the king's garden when they announced Daelon's arrival.

"Oh goodie," Andriet said, clapping his hands together.

"That's the only reason you bothered me at breakfast, isn't it?" I accused.

"Dearest queen, I'm heartbroken you would think I care so little for our friendship. I am and always will be your devoted…" His voice trailed away as Daelon entered the room. Andriet made a small squeak, his eyes set longingly and greedily upon Daelon as he strode toward me.

I couldn't blame Andriet. Daelon was impressive in his form fitting, deep leaf green pants and jacket, tailored to outline his broad, muscular physique. Andriet had hovered by the seamstress, barking orders on the measurements and fit even though she couldn't hear him. And now he was left to drool and pine for his ex-lover.

"I compiled the list of names you requested," Daelon said, placing the paper beside my plate. He no longer bowed to me in private, under my repeated instructions.

Andriet, appearing over his shoulder, leaned in close and sniffed the back of Daelon's neck. I frowned at him while Daelon focused on the list. He couldn't smell, so why risk accidentally touching Daelon or prolonging his ache?

"Everyone should take a seat," I announced, to which Daelon arched a brow and glanced around him, giving me another chance to frown at Andriet. I jerked my head toward the farthest seat from me.

"Yes, you, Daelon." I motioned to the seat closest to me.

Andriet glided into the seat first and mimed patting his lap.

"No," I barked, making Daelon freeze on the cusp of sitting on Andriet. Andriet winked at me, then slipped from the seat before giving an exaggerated bow and waving Daelon to take the seat.

"I'm sorry, Daelon. I'm out of sorts at the moment. Please," and I motioned once again for him to sit. "What have you got for me?" Determined to ignore Andriet's antics, I picked up the list and skimmed it through, recognizing a few names as I pushed the plate filled with pastries toward Daelon. "We can cross off the Earl's second son straight away," I said.

"Hold your girdle, sweet, that won't be easy," Andriet said .

"I'm afraid it won't be that easy," Daelon replied, helping himself to a pastry.

I rolled my eyes at Andriet for interfering. "Why not? The crown gets final say on who will serve her on the council, does she not? Besides, his father was involved in the plot to have me kidnapped. I refuse to reward his father's behavior by rising his son to my council."

"His father was very influential and while the new Earl of Vaelorin is young and a complete ass to hold such a title, many will back him," Andriet intervened.

"The young and incompetent are easily manipulated," I added.

"The Earl may be young and perhaps incompetent, but he's shrewd," Daelon said.

"Which is why many of the lords and barons will want him on the council, whispering in the queen's ear," Andriet continued.

"Most care little for my ear. They would rather see me dead."

Daelon frowned. "Are we still talking about the young Earl?"

"And the closer they are beside you, the easier they are to observe," Andriet finished.

I slammed my hand down on the list. "I can handle only one conversation."

"Right. The young Earl is off the list," Daelon agreed. "Anyone else you wish to strike off?"

"That slut Baroness Deflume will push for Stokrest to take a place," Andriet continued.

I scrutinized the list, running a finger down the names, looking for his. "What about Stokrest?"

"His titles are barely worth mentioning. I wouldn't put him on the list," Daelon said.

"Of course, Daelon wouldn't put him on the list, but the Baroness will push for it all the same. She has a sharp tongue and wields gossip like a blade. Never underestimate what passes through the courtiers and makes its way into their husbands' ears."

"She's influential, right? You need to keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn't spread malicious gossip," I continued.

"Who're we talking about?" Daelon said.

"Baron Deflume. She's Stokrest's lover. She'll push to have him elevated."

"Oh," Daelon responded. "You know a thing or two about the royal court."

"That little turd, Thurrebe. He'll be looking to make a name for himself." I jumped, spilling my tea, as Andriet suddenly spoke in my ear.

"Are you all right?"

I sighed. "I'm fine, Daelon. Right now, I seem to have too many voices in my head regarding all these matters."

"He's Lord Dowel's son. You remember that oaf? Take it from me, my sweet, his impotent son will already have some sordid plan to remove your royal behind from the throne and replace it with?—"

"Perhaps we should leave this discussion until later," Daelon began before I slapped my hand down on the list, slamming it against the table. "You're forgetting the Salmun. They're hardly going to allow an impotent dolt to win the throne."

"Very true," Daelon said, his voice sounding strained. "Who's the impotent dolt?"

"Besides, you said it was best to keep my enemies close," I continued.

"I don't recall mentioning that, but it's wise." Daelon was trying his best to keep up with my seemingly one-sided conversation.

I seized Daelon's hand. "I'm so sorry. This must be very confusing for you because it's doing my head in."

"You've been weeks on the throne. No one's expecting you to act competently in all matters so early in your rule." He looked at my hand cupping his. "Besides." His voice had softened. "You lost those close to you, as did I, and that's going to take time." He sighed, closing his eyes. "Sometimes time isn't even enough."

"Shit. I'm going to cry," Andriet wailed. "Sorry, Tressya, I won't be able to help you with your list for now." And he vanished.

I gave Daelon my warmest smile, feeling my shoulders ease with Andriet's disappearance. I loved him dearly, but he'd become a handful as a spirit, and I was doing my best to fulfill the promise I made to myself never to exert my control as a spiritweaver over him. "You're right. Grief makes a poor leader out of anyone."

"If you allow it, it will strengthen you."

I patted his hand again, then reached for the teapot. "Have you thought any more about my request?" I poured Daelon a cup of tea while I spoke .

"He'll refuse." I jerked, spilling Daelon's tea over the tablecloth at Andriet's sudden reappearance.

"Tressya?"

I gave Daelon an embarrassed smile. "Sorry. I seem to have the jitters suddenly. I'm fine. Go on."

"I'm honored you wish to bestow me with title and rank, but you can't be seen to show favoritism."

"See, I told you."

Gritting my teeth against Andriet's intrusion, I said. "That's ridiculous. Royalty always shows favoritism. Everyone expects it."

"Don't give up on him," Andriet moved across to stand behind Daelon.

"Please, Daelon, don't dismiss my request outright. Think on it."

"Most will turn against me."

"No, Daelon. Don't let that keep you from accepting Tressya's offer."

"You're stronger than that, Daelon. Don't let those concerns sway your decision."

"Listen to her, my dearest. We want the best for you."

"In all honesty, I feel happier where I am."

"Nonsense. Tressya will give you rooms in the palace. You'll have every luxury, servants at your call."

"You mean a great deal to me, Daelon. You're the only one I trust in this lair of liars and murderers."

"She needs you close, Daelon. I need you close."

"You can be with him anywhere you please," I grouched, then gently shook my head at my stupidity for speaking that aloud—for the confusing conversation I'd conducted with Daelon so far.

"Are…are you referring to Andriet?" Daelon said.

I pressed my fingers to my temple as I spoke. "I want the best for you, and if you feel happier where you are, then I?—"

"Shut up, Tressya," Andriet interrupted.

"—respect your wishes."

"No, you don't." Andriet paced behind Daelon. "You want him to have titles, land, a place on the council. His?—"

"Thank you," Daelon said.

"—advise will be invaluable."

"After all you've lost. I want you to be happy."

Andriet leaned down beside me. "He'll be much happier once you've elevated his rank and given him a place within Emberfell. He just doesn't know it yet."

"That's a tough ask," Daelon said.

"See, I told you he wasn't happy."

"We'll share our tattered hearts." It was near impossible to have this conversation with Andriet hovering between us. "And we'll also share them when they're mended."

"That's a promise," Daelon said.

"Shit. I'm going to cry again," Andriet announced.

Just then the door burst open, a guard rushing forth, the Mother close on his heels.

"Your Majesty, your spiritual advisor."

"She can see who I am," the Mother growled at him as she strode past.

"Oh goody. Just the sport I need," Andriet crooned.

Daelon rushed to his feet, knocking over his chair in his haste. Face flushed red, he fumbled to right it, apologizing all the while.

I rose from my seat. It wasn't the done thing for the queen to show such curtesy to anyone, but I feared Andriet was about to do something calamitous, like rush straight through the Mother yanking on her heart along the way.

"I wasn't expecting you," I stammered.

Thankfully, Andriet chose instead to stand beside Daelon, like a protective pet.

I fought against my smirk at seeing her stiff attempt at a bow. Then turned to Daelon. "That'll be all." Sparing him the Mother's scrutiny.

"Your Majesty." He exaggerated his bow, as if to make a mockery of the Mother's own.

"I'll be with you shortly," Andriet yelled to Daelon, as he hurriedly retreated from the king's garden.

"I'm very glad we can talk in private," I said pointedly, staring at Andriet because the Mother was already making herself comfortable at the table, despite my not having welcomed her to sit.

She simply huffed at what I said, paying me little attention, her gaze focused on the food in front of her.

"Your position is most favorable." The tone in her voice was like being forced to juggle hot coals—it burned the more you listened to it.

I settled myself into my seat, feeling ill at ease with Andriet hovering behind the Mother. He was both my reward and punishment for all I'd done in the Ashenlands. I'd refused to mourn him, so brought him home as reward, only now he was punishing me by driving me insane .

Deep in my heart, I knew I was still to suffer the consequences of disturbing the balance and dragging the dead from their home across the veil. The suffering, however, had yet to come, and right now I had to concentrate on the position I was in.

"A position foisted upon me. But, yes, you're right. It has its favorable moments." I slid back down into my seat, placing both my palms on the table as grounding for the conversation to come.

Her gaze sliced across to me, and I warred with my choices: hold her gaze, a direct challenge, or dip my eyes and submit to her authority as the Divine Mother. With each passing day, I felt less a disciple. Traitorous of all, I struggled to see the Mother as my savior.

Finally, I lowered my gaze and focused on the half-eaten pastry on my plate. I had yet to feel secure in my position, and with so much still unclear and numerous enemies seeking my downfall, it wasn't wise to confront the one person I still feared. Now was not the time to provoke a conflict with the Mother.

The silence between us was like hands around my throat. I could feel her gaze upon me, but I resisted lifting my eyes, knowing what I'd read in her expression if I did—loathing. Only now, after all these years, have I come to realize my foolishness in holding her in such high esteem, in letting her into my heart as the mother I never had.

"I know a malicious schemer when I see one. Loyal words they may say, it's in their eyes. The greed, the hunger for wealth and power they don't deserve. This one has a black core, the blackest I've ever seen." Andriet said .

I couldn't challenge him on that assessment. Nor could I tell him to back away as he hovered dangerously close to her face, I discovered as I finally lifted my gaze. If he were alive, the Mother would be breathing in his breath.

"Her heart's a shriveled husk from lack of use." He held up his hand, curling his fingers inward and hovered it over her heart, a threat to repeat what he'd done in the carriage on her arrival.

Maybe I'd grown weary of fighting Andriet's antics, but I felt no inclination to stop him.

"Perhaps I'm wrong. She probably doesn't possess a heart."

The Mother's brows lifted as she glanced to the list of potential council candidates beside my plate.

"That's right, you old witch. As queen, Tressya gets to choose the trustworthy to counsel her. She'll surround herself with people of worth who'll give genuine support."

"You wanted privacy?" the Mother asked. "Tell your friend to leave us alone." And she stared ahead out the windows into the garden, as if waiting for me to do as she asked.

"Oh, she's good. And I hate I think so, but it's true."

"Please," I whispered to Andriet, even though the Mother would hear.

"You need my support, my sweet. You're not yet strong enough to stand against her. You're learning, though. Each day I see the fire in your burn brighter, but she still gets the better of you."

I slowly shook my head .

"Come on, Tressya. A spirit's life lacks many things, most of all fun. Let me have some with her."

"Perhaps you're not as adept in your ability as a spiritweaver as I believed." The Mother returned her gaze to me.

This time I wouldn't look away. I watched her brow arch, mockingly questioning my stare. Then her lips thin and pinched in displeasure.

"I don't understand the significance of what she just said, but it's finally pulled out the queen. Bravo, my sweet. Now show some teeth."

" Aetherius ," the Mother suddenly hissed.

My soul word surged through me like a tempest unleashed from the depths of a raging sea, surging within to flood my mind and drown my heart. My muscles turned to stone as my breath seized, the power in her voice, swiftly crippling my control over my body.

"Tressya?" Andriet queried, abandoning the Mother and sliding close beside me. "So this is soul voice?"

In my feeble resistance, my fingers curled, clawing my nails down the stone table. I couldn't even make my mouth move. The six pillars deserted me. Discipline I needed most to calm my mind, allow me a chance for my own retaliatory attack, but my soul word drenched in the power of the Mother's voice captured me in a suffocating and cruel embrace.

"She even made me jump."

"Fall to your knees," the Mother barked.

Gasping for shallow breaths, I slid from my seat, unable to disobey, unable to even fight.

"Don't worry, my sweet. I'm your protector. Whatever the crone gives, I'll make her receive. "

My eyes were the only thing free of her command. I cast a side-ways glance to find Andriet standing behind her, a wicked, gleeful smile on his face, and my heart surged in joy at the thought of what he'd do.

"I've nurtured your naivety for all these years. It was important, you see, ensuring your lack of progress in the Sistern's divine arts of soul voice, and in your understanding of your heritage."

I was sure I didn't want her to continue, but I was as hungry for my past as a drowning man for air.

Andriet's glare stayed on the back of her head, hand raised as though readying himself to chop it off. He wouldn't, because he understood the value of information.

"You'll slowly choke if you speak. Do you understand me?" She quirked a brow.

I nodded, a chill of ice creeping into my heart. I was desperate to hear this, yet I feared it was not something I wanted Andriet to know. But it was too late. By sealing my lips, the Mother had ensured Andriet's presence.

"Many, many centuries ago, there were only a handful of us who had discovered our voice. Even fewer understood the potential of what we could achieve by nurturing this unique ability. Selective breeding became essential, as did the establishment of the pillars, the foundation upon which our order would be built.

"Our order gradually grew, but as women, our influence was restricted in a world dominated by men, regardless of how strategically we positioned ourselves among those in power."

Andriet shifted to the side, for a clearer view of the Mother. He appeared as captivated as I was by this revelation into the Sistern's history.

"If not for the Razohan and their crucial connection with the deceased king of the south, the Sistern would have remained concealed, merely a hidden force behind true power. Finally, we found a way to be more than just the puppeteer behind the throne. We could become the throne itself. And rulers of the Bone Throne."

"This is nonsense," Andriet interjected, while the Mother slowly rose from the table. He held his arm out to her, pulling up his sleeve to expose his wrist. "In my blood runs the true heirs to the Bone Throne." He jabbed a finger at me. "She carries that blood, from the Levenian line."

I closed my eyes in shame. Though I had no power over my ancestry, only my destiny—even that looked shaky—I'd not been truthful to my dearest friend. But I was shocked and saddened to realize how vehemently he believed what the Salmun had told him: that his line, the Levenian line, were the only true heirs destined to rule the Bone Throne.

"The presence of the Nazeen in the north posed a challenge to our objectives. However, our persistence and patience eventually paid off. Discontent simmered among some of the blooded, weary of their sacrifices. When Sophia, Ammelle's granddaughter, bonded with a Huungardred to create abominations, doubts arose about the legitimacy of her line to the Bone Throne. Thus, the restless amongst the blooded warmed to our overtures."

There was no stopping what she would say. Andriet would finally hear the truth.

"With the Nazeen's help, the Sistern sent one of our loyal sisters north to unite with a Razohan many generations past, long before my tenure as head of the divine order. Your connection to the Razohan began over four hundred years ago. It was a courageous and ambitious scheme, showing great foresight." She took a breath. If only I could shut her up.

"You see, she couldn't just mate with any Razohan. He had to be exceptional. With the Nazeen's help, we selected a Razohan from the men of the north, one whose lineage would produce a very special child."

"This is all lies." Andriet's face contorted in anger. "You don't need to listen to this, Tressya. You're one of us. You're not a disgusting beast from the north."

He raised his hand, ready to punch it through her chest from behind.

I was a coward, because for a breath, I wanted him to do it. I'd dreaded this moment, the moment of witnessing the look of horror on Andriet's face as he learned the truth, and the inevitable rejection I was certain would follow. I wanted him to silence her, so I could maintain the veil over my dirty secrets, keeping them confined between the Mother and myself. But it was too late now. The truth had been revealed and could never be withdrawn back into the shadows.

She strolled the length of the table, running a finger across its surface as she went. "Your mother loathed the blight running through her veins, but as a loyal disciple, she understood her duty and committed herself to the Sistern's goal. "

Andriet glanced down at his wrist, the sleeve still pulled up, leaving it exposed to a woman who couldn't even see him. He looked like a man grappling for sanity, looking utterly defeated.

"It was a mercy she died so early." She halted at the end of the table and turned to face me. "She didn't want you, a reminder of what she abhorred. Your mother wanted to see an end to her cursed blood, but you were important to the Sistern, and she knew her duty, so she obeyed."

"This is her twisted way of hurting you?"

The only thing left to burn me in my shame was to reveal my part in his family's demise. In many ways, the Mother's hold on me was a mercy. It was the punishment I sorely needed. I closed my eyes, unable to bear Andriet's expression after the Mother exposed me for what I truly was: his enemy.

"It's all lies, you whore," Andriet shouted.

I opened my eyes to see the Mother fall forward, slamming her hands on the table with a loud gasp, Andriet behind her, his features distorted with malice and a twisted euphoria.

The moment Andriet punched his fist through the Mother's back, her hold on me vanished. I fell forward, crying out as I cracked my head on the edge of the stone table. Dizzy with pain, I tried to right myself as blood trickled into my eyes.

"Tell your pet to release me," the Mother shouted, then, through gritted teeth, she straightened, forcing Andriet's fist to protrude through her chest.

I understood the sensation of being invaded by death, of feeling overwhelmed by their emotions. I had believed it was my spiritweaver ability that made me susceptible to such feelings. However, as with our time in the carriage, the Mother appeared to experience the same as me.

"Arrh," she growled, hands fisted so her knuckles turned white, her lips pulled back, revealing yellowed teeth and gums. Then, after a moment, she tilted her head back and laughed, filling the room with a maniacal sound.

"That's all you have? You pathetic fool. The dead can't hurt the living."

She said as much because she had no idea of what I'd done in the Ashenlands, which meant she didn't realize the extent of my ability as a spiritweaver. One word from me would bring Andriet across the veil and into the world of the living.

"You better listen carefully," the Mother said, though her voice sounded strained. For all her strength and power, she still struggled under Andriet's touch.

"Andriet." My voice croaked as I spoke.

"It's time to silence those lies," Andriet growled, deafened to my plea.

"Our lives are now connected," the Mother gasped, her eyes seeking mine across the table.

Andriet's face turned bone white.

"You know I'm telling the truth," she continued.

Mercy upon me. It was the black mist she'd placed inside of me before I'd set sail for Tarragona.

"That's right, child. I see you remember."

Andriet was staring at me, his eyes imploring it not to be true. I could only shake my head, feeling yet more shame for something beyond my control .

He backed away from the Mother, mimicking spearing his hands through his hair. Shaking his head, he turned his back and paced away, and kept pacing until he left the room.

Why had he not done that in the beginning? Because he needed to hear the truth. And you would never find the courage to tell him.

The Mother eased herself down in the closest seat, inhaling deep as she arched her head back.

"The mist was to enhance my spiritweaver ability."

"Yes. And more. As if I'd leave something as important as assuming power of the Bone Throne and the Etherweave up to someone as pitiful as you."

I pulled myself from the floor, sliding into my seat. "What have you done?"

"I've elevated the Sistern to its rightful place."

"What have you done?" I repeated, my voice sounding dry and rough.

Her dark eyes resembled deep wells leading into a perilous lair. I wanted to leap across the table and smack the smirk from her face, but her answer was more valuable to me. Thanks to Andriet, her dark secret was out, and once I knew exactly what she'd done to me, I would reverse it. There had to be a way. I'd stop at nothing to find a way. Then I would teach her the mistake she made in thinking me pitiful.

"Had you followed your duty and remained loyal to the Sistern, you wouldn't have to suffer." She rose. "You have only yourself to blame."

Discipline . I swallowed, easily shedding the sludge of her gloat. There were far more significant matters for me to consider than allowing myself to become angered by her smugness.

"How are our lives connected?"

She strode toward me. "You have forgotten so much of how the Sistern works since arriving in Tarragona. I suppose I'll have to excuse you, given the company you've kept for all this time."

I'd anticipated her silence, but it was worth attempting to see what I could get out of her. I'd hoped her conceit would make her believe she'd already triumphed, loosening her tongue. The Mother was too shrewd for that. Which meant I'd have to work this out for myself.

I rose, so we were facing each other. "Thank you, Mother, once again for your valuable lesson."

Magic was how this started, so it would be the cure.

I left her smirk faltering and marched from the king's garden.

The Salmun were the last on my list to consult. I needed to sneak back into Emberforge and meet with Plesy and his brethren. There was also the Nazeen who'd betrayed their sisters to side with the Sistern. I was damn sure they would not sit idle and let the Sistern win prime place in this race for the Bone Throne.

Did Tamas know of the Nazeens' betrayal?

I tried to ignore the tingles flaring on my wrist where his bite mark remained.

Tamas, the bloodborn. The only other bloodborn; the man who had bonded himself with me. The man who should be my greatest rival for the Bone Throne. Yet, he was the only rival I felt certain wouldn't want to see me fail .

You need to come back to me.

I felt sure if I was ever to wield the Etherweave,` I needed Tamas by my side. It was time I shed my foreigner's naivety and understood my inheritance.

It was time I learned how to be a queen; ruler of the Bone Throne.