Dark Fate: The Gathering (The Dark Fate Chronicles Book 1) (16 page)

Kesh’s thoughts sundered as the profiles of Princess Sloane and her sister came into view. Every hint of the beauty implied in the queen had been brought to full realization in her daughters. Raven hair had been elegantly stacked and bound with the finest of silver-and-gold netting. Certain locks of the ebony manes had been allowed to escape the bindings to fall and frame the near identical faces in soft black edges. The deep, sapphire blue eyes, hallmarks of those destined to rule in this land, contrasted deeply with the black lashes and brows, and arrested all who were caught in their gaze. Those eyes were settled on the king and his bride in a confident regard that was matched by their purposeful yet graceful strides toward the royal dais. The girls were tall, much taller than those who trailed behind them. Where he may have considered this freakish in other women, with these two... it simply accentuated their femininity. There was obvious strength in the limbs that held the bouquets clasped before them, but the skin of the sisters’ arms glowed in a way that promised silky smooth resilience to the touch.

When the pair turned to ascend the stairs approaching the king and queen, the spell that had held him rapt was broken. Kesh became aware that he was sweating, and as he raised a hand to wipe at his brow, it quavered weakly. Exhaling sharply, he regained his composure.
Absurd, losing myself in adoration like a boy
. Strangely, the reprimand he directed at himself echoed hollowly.

“...you would prefer them bearded, obviously.” Erik’s hushed voice drifted to the chancellor’s ear.

Almost gratefully, Kesh rounded on the elf, who had his head tipped slightly to whisper his jibe in Kinsey’s ear. Somehow the two simpletons had wormed their way closer to him while the princesses were making their entry. How he missed the shuffle, he couldn’t begin to guess. Likely the damnable scout and his sylvan ways had something to do with it.

Hissing, Kesh inclined his head toward the nettlesome pair. “You will not embarrass me further! Be silent, or be flogged. I care not.”

Thankfully, neither of the men voiced a complaint, and they fell silent.

Both of the princesses had been addressing King Hathorn from a deep curtsey during this brief exchange, and now, the giant raised himself from his throne.

Extending one hand to each of his daughters, he intoned in his deep voice, “Rise, daughters.”

Gracefully, the twins stood to their full heights and twisted to surrender their burdens to the women that trailed them. Bobbing gracefully, the attendants took the complicated arrangements of flowers and moved to the sides, allowing the crowd an unobstructed view of the royal family. The two princesses stepped toward the king, then turned to assume a position on either side. The rumble of the king’s voice rolled out from the dais. “My people. We all know that times are...”

Kesh recognized the beginnings of a standard speech extolling all of the supposed virtues of a people and the challenges they faced. Assuming his standard mask of rapt attention, he focused once again on the sisters, allowing his unconscious mind to listen to the speech and trusting his instincts to pick out the important bits for later consideration.

Now that the initial shock of their beauty had passed, he could evaluate the pair more closely. All things considered, the resemblance was uncanny. There was a difference however, and that difference was in the expression. He took the daughter standing to Hathorn’s left to be
Sacha
.

Her eyes carried a certain tension around them that Sloane’s lacked. It spoke of concerns beyond that of the current engagement. He had, of course, heard some rumors of trouble that surrounded Sacha’s removal to some remote sanctuary. Likely, the girl had gone and gotten herself a lover who was not acceptable to the king. Kesh allowed a small smirk to penetrate his mask. Possibilities here abounded. He understood that Sloane was well and truly beyond the reach of even one such as he—she was scheduled to marry a prince, after all. But Sacha; she must marry a man of some rank. To do anything less would be absurd.

Kesh’s hands rose and began to clap with the rest of the sheep around him as the king ended his speech. With a gesture, Hathorn brought Princess Sloane forward. As she assumed the center, the king resumed his seat next to the queen, steepling his fingers in front of his mouth and listening with his brows knitted furiously.

The voice of the statuesque beauty before him was rich and sultry, and sent a momentary thrill through him. The words, however, were as empty as those of her ridiculous father.

“My friends...” She began to extol the virtues of this hollowed-out cave and how much she would miss all of its comforts and the good friends and people, and... It became quite easy to tune this out to a muted buzz.
Lies of royalty
. In truth, she likely could not wait to be away from this damp hole in the cliffside and her tyrannical father, perched upon his polished rock.

Inwardly sighing, Kesh returned to his evaluation of Sacha, who was watching Sloane with a sad, tight expression.
Ahh, she does not approve
.
Interesting
. Possibilities bloomed in his mind. He was, after all, a person of note in Basinia.
The future is never set
. Relaxing slightly, he allowed himself to consider what a future with her might hold.

His lips twitched as his eyes traced the graceful lines of her body. Where his gaze caressed, he imagined his fingers. The black silken threads of the hair that had been allowed to escape softly touched her shoulders in response to her small, subtle movements. He could all but feel the richness of her skin beneath his hand as he traced the artful curve of her shoulder and neck, dipping into the fastenings of the dress and gently peeling away the fabric that covered yet accentuated the curves beneath. As the speech droned on, Kesh could see every line of the woman on stage as she surrendered herself to him, and the bowing of that proud face as she knelt before him, hands sliding up his body to untie the cords of his clothing and hungrily begging him to give her what she needed.

A sharp jab in his back abruptly dissolved his mental image, and he found Princess Sloane unspeaking, one arm swept in welcome to the Basinian embassy, and every eye he could see locked on him. Sweat started to bead on his forehead as he raced to catch up. His mind offered up her last words: “And of course, I welcome those who have traveled so far to ensure my safety upon my journey to a new home. May our union bring forth an era of unparalleled prosperity.”

Kesh bowed deeply, and on rising, he was prepared.

Squaring his shoulders, he strode briskly from the group and ascended to the step just below the dais. He turned slightly so he could see both the crowd and the royal family without removing his eyes from Princess Sloane. Taking the extended hand, he bowed over it and brushed his lips over the delicate fingertips. A brief thrill tickled his scalp and quivered through his body as he inhaled the fragrance of her skin and felt the warmth of her hand. This close, the very presence of the two women threatened to overwhelm him, but with an effort of will, he stood and smiled without staring. “You are most gracious, Princess. My prince has looked forward to this day above all else. Peace and prosperity between Basinia and Pelos is his deepest wish. Only one thing rivals this devout purpose, and that is to take you, most beautiful Princess, as his lovely wife.” Kesh bowed once more, and thankfully, the others in his party followed suit.

Cheers and applause echoed through the high ceilings of the throne room, sounding much like the treacherous thunderstorms that rolled along the Tanglevine in early spring. Kesh allowed the sound to wash over him and smiled at the floor, basking in the glow of adoration. Standing from his bow, the chancellor locked eyes with Princess Sloane. Fire and ice radiated from her gaze, and for a brief moment he thought,
How delicious it would be to have them both
.

To his right, Hathorn shifted in his throne and rose. Extending a hand to Arece, the king drew her along to stand next to his daughter and tower above Kesh. An arm the length of a troll’s waved to a spot on the dais to the king’s left, and Kesh ascended with a smug jut to his jaw, facing the crowd fully. The same arm rose and cut away the applause and cheers of the crowd.

“My people,” the king began, “this is an auspicious day indeed, and I would take it as a courtesy if you would help us celebrate this time and welcome our new kinsmen.” Curtains from upper galleries were drawn back, revealing groups of musicians who began a quiet whisper of music in perfectly choreographed unison.

“Dance, drink, and be welcome!” At the king’s final word, the music swelled into the strains of the Pelosian anthem and the guards, placed at intervals throughout the hall, lifted their voices in the martial chords. The king’s massive hand fell from its gesture of welcome to land lightly on Kesh’s shoulder, but the grip was iron. Kesh maintained his smile, but pain shortly began to radiate from the massive fingers that held him fast. Looking slightly to the right, he could see the blazing blue eyes of the king regarding him as the rest of the crowd sang. Cheers erupted at the closing bars of the music, and the hand released him to lead the royal family down into the crowd.

Servants dressed in the livery of the kingdom erupted from the lower archways, bearing plates of food and trays of white and red wine.

Rubbing his shoulder furtively, Kesh resumed his mask of interested attention and descended, following in the wake of the royals, catching up with them as they gained the main floor.

The chancellor stepped around the king and his family, resuming his position in the fore of the Basinian embassy. Bowing slightly, he once again took his soon-to-be-queen’s hand and kissed it lightly. “Princess Sloane, you are the brightest star amongst a field of astral beauty.” With his free hand, Kesh gestured to the other young ladies who were descending to accompany the sisters. His eyes slid to Sacha in hopes of stealing a moment of connection only to find her staring, with what looked like wonder, at Erik.

Heat rose under the chancellor’s collar and his eyes narrowed the slightest bit before he returned his focus to Princess Sloane, who had drawn a lovely breath to respond.

“You are most kind, Chancellor. I can clearly see why you were chosen to represent Prince Alexander. You are the example of what all politicians should aspire to be.”

Kesh couldn’t discern from her tone whether this was a jest, or spoken with true sincerity. Regardless, he had no other choice than to reply with all the graciousness he could muster. “You flatter me, Princess...” He tilted his head and in the process, took notice of several attendants hovering with laden trays near the royal grouping. “Shall we drink to our two nations?”

“Yes, I think that would be appropriate.”

The chancellor motioned to the waiting servants as he spoke. “Princess, may I introduce my most trusted companions in the courts of Waterfall Citadel...” He turned to the three delegates chosen earlier that evening to represent Basinia and himself with the most elegance and flare. “Sir Brier Harristone, magistrate to the higher courts of the Citadel. Lady Cora Barrelon, a prominent noble and shareholder in foreign trade. And last, but far from least, Sir Norris Flamiel, a scholar, and writer of military history as well as our leader of the Citadel’s library. It is under his authority that the training for most of our legal experts and historians is completed. He has long been an advocate of genial relations between our two countries and is a passionate follower of Pelosian history.”

The delegates bowed their heads upon introduction and graciously accepted goblets of wine from the servant girls.

“What of these two?” Princess Sacha stepped up beside her sister and gestured to Erik and Kinsey.

With effort, Kesh was able to prevent his eyes from rolling as he looked over his shoulder at the dreadful pair. “Forgive me, Princess.” He laughed. “These are Masters Erik and Kinsey Aveon. They will be our guides back to Waterfall Citadel.” Kesh snatched a goblet for himself, almost spilling the contents as Erik had done previously. Gesturing away from the pair, he asked, “And what of your ladies in waiting? Such beauty must surely be named—”

“The same surname?” Princess Sacha persisted. “How curious. Pardon my forwardness, but how might you two be ‘related’?” She broke away from the group of clustered girls to stand closer to the pair.

“Introductions first, my sister.” Princess Sloane arched a delicate brow, then proceeded to name off her cousins, who in turn curtsied one by one. Princess Sacha did not interrupt her cousin’s introductions further, but Kesh noticed her gaze kept drifting back to the elf and lingering there.

The chancellor found it hard to remain focused on the young women bobbing up and down. It took the full mastery of himself to not allow his eyes to drift back to Princess Sacha’s face and her patient scrutiny of the elf and his “son.” Etiquette demanded he stay close to his queen-to-be and lavish his prince’s attention upon her, so he could do nothing to intervene. His irritation boiled within him.
May Eos damn those two mongrels to an eternity of pain for their persistent insolence. They will not spoil this for me.

“So, Chancellor Tomelen.” Princess Sloane raised her goblet. “To peace.”

“To peace,” he repeated, smiling as all goblets were raised in toast of the coming alliance.