Exile (12 page)

CHAPTER NINE

Rain poured over them, drumming mercilessly down on fields beyond the outer wall of the capital city of Yiroth, where the ground still bore scars from Yiloch’s brief siege. Dark clouds showed no promise of letting up anytime soon. It suited Yiloch’s mood. If only it could rain hard enough to wash away the fast approaching entourage.

Mud sprayed up in sheets from the wheels of five carriages speeding toward the outer gates, forcing the mounted escort to grant them a wide berth. Five carriages. The first would carry the Lord and Lady Vyram and their daughter, Lady Auryl. The remaining four would contain her belongings, which probably included an extensive wardrobe, and those things her parents brought along for their visit. They would take up residence in the palace until after the wedding. The whole process was a great deal of bother, though he recognized most of his resistance came from an unwillingness to move on. He would attempt to be a gracious host and husband, though he wanted to be neither on this occasion.

Standing on the outer wall under an invisible barrier Ian had created to block the rain, Yiloch smirked at the extra carriages. Would the closets in the palace be large enough? All he could remember of Auryl from visits to Lord Vyram’s estate were her distinct, pureblooded beauty and her father’s frequent, exasperated comments about her penchant for fine clothing sucking his coffers dry. Now she would have the coffers of the empire to dip into. This empire was being reborn, however, and mending the wounds his father’s careless rule had inflicted upon it was going to be expensive, so he would have to tell the steward to keep close account of her spending.

A cool breeze came up, blowing his long silver hair in his face and bringing a cold misting of rain in under the barrier. He raised an eyebrow at Ian. The young creator answered with an awkward grin and brushed a lock of pale blond hair out of his face. Exerting no obvious effort, he extended the barrier down around them to block the breeze as well as the damp.

“What’s she like?” Ian asked, his tone carrying the weight of many tactfully unvoiced questions. Was she anything like Indigo? Was there anything special that might set her apart from any other eligible lady in the kingdom? Was there anything that would make her something more than a reminder of the woman they wanted her to be?

Adran, who had returned the evening prior with Lord Vyram’s acceptance of the offer of engagement, shifted next to him. Yiloch knew where Adran stood on the subject. Though the other man was fond enough of Indigo, he was very pragmatic and believed it was time to move on. He was right, but Ian, like Yiloch himself, found it much harder to let go.

“She will never be Indigo,” Adran replied with sharpness in his tone and a warning glance that encompassed both of them.

He expected them to treat Lady Auryl well regardless of the love of Indigo that remained within them both, rooted there inadvertently by the bit of ascard she had used to link to them during the campaign against his father. Even without the memories, that link was an intimate reminder of her presence. The knowledge that Ian shared that enduring connection to her made him jealous in a way, but there was also some comfort to knowing someone else struggled with the constant reminder as he did.

A hint of red colored Ian’s cheeks in response to Adran’s chastisement and he stared out at the approaching group with an air of avoidance. Yiloch sympathized, but an heir was necessary and he would not compromise his rule for anything, not even Indigo.

Without her, I might not have a throne. She nearly gave up her life getting me here. How many people would do that, even for someone they love?

The thoughts came unbidden, in defiance of his determination to set her aside. The leadership of Lyra was what he had wanted all of his life. This was his birthright, an undeniable part of the blood that ran in his veins. Nothing would come between him and his empire, not even a greater love than he had ever dreamed possible.

Once, he had thought what his father and mother shared before her murder was love, now he realized how pale a thing that had been. Theirs had been an arranged marriage, a poor political match that they had worked to hide the truth of from their children. Rylan chose her for her lineage alone, as Yiloch now chose Lady Auryl. That realization did help him understand some of why his father might not have been overly moved by her death. Perhaps he and his father were more alike than he previously thought. Both of them were willing to do whatever was necessary to achieve their goals, even discard the ones they loved. His father’s greatest mistake was in thinking Yiloch would sit quietly in exile and watch him destroy the empire.

“It would be a thoughtful gesture to meet them at the gates,” Adran suggested.

Yiloch pushed away his gloom, inhaled the clean smell of the rain, and set his shoulders back. He focused on the lead carriage and shook his head. “No. She will want to freshen up after the journey and Lord Vyram will prefer to present her formally. Besides, I am emperor, not some minor lord. You will meet them at the inner gate, Adran, and show her to her rooms so she can prepare herself. I will see them in the throne room in an hour.”

Adran nodded, his expression reflecting approval of the decision as he left to act out his orders. Was the man trying to drive him mad? If he thought one thing, why did he suggest the other?

Yiloch shook his head after his friend and stayed to watch until the lead riders had reached the outer gate. Then he turned and started walking along the wall. Ian kept pace, staying a few steps behind him and maintaining the barrier against the elements. For a moment, he considered dismissing the youth. The thought of being drenched in a cleansing rain was somehow appealing. Another part of him, a needful part he still hadn’t quite come to terms with, wanted the company of the one person who understood his melancholy better than anyone else could.

When he came to the place on the wall above the door where he and Indigo had entered the night he took the throne, Yiloch stopped and gazed out over the landscape. He could retrace every step of that night in his mind.

His newest young captain, Leryc, had let them in, allowing them to infiltrate the palace undetected with the help of Indigo’s masking. Her reluctance to kill the guards in the palace helped him understand what it cost her to save him the night she had killed a group of creators who had almost succeeded in assassinating him and ending the war before it had hardly begun. She had saved his life at great personal cost, risking everything so he could be emperor of a country she wasn’t even part of.

He couldn’t say exactly when he had come to love her. It might have been the night he realized she was willing to die for him. Or maybe it was the first moment he looked into those brilliant blue eyes and saw the strength deep within her, trampled upon and ragged, needing only a nudge in the right direction to blossom. Regardless, love her he did and he wanted her near for that reason, even if he could never marry her. Perhaps he should have offered her a position as a personal adept working with Ferin and Ian, but she wouldn’t have accepted. Not then. Maybe not ever. She had her own goals and her own battles to fight. Though he resented her choice in a way, he couldn’t help admiring her determination. Maybe she would return someday, but how would she feel about trying to fit into this new equation?

He continued to one of the towers and descended the spiraling stone steps within. Ian’s barrier fell away when the tower door closed. The youth continued with him in solemn silence, sharing his mood and immersed in his own thoughts. They meandered back to the throne room and Yiloch sat upon the throne, looking up to watch rain running over the faceted crystal high above. The effect was both beautiful and disheartening, the lamentation of a dark gray sky.

Ian took up his place behind and to the left of the throne. To the right of the main throne, another had been placed, resurrected from storage where it had sat untouched since his mother’s death. Both were finely wrought in silver and ivory, elegantly detailed, but the second throne had a feminine delicacy to its lines. Now, freshly cleaned, it reclaimed its rightful place alongside the main throne.

What would Indigo look like sitting there? He could almost imagine her there, beautiful bronze skin defiant of the pale seat, arresting blue eyes calming the heart of every man and woman who came before them.

He shook his head.

Before Auryl and her parents were set to arrive, Captain Paulin and Lord Terral joined them, each leading three guardsmen, and took up places to the sides of the long room. His second, Commander Hax, also arrived, giving him a suggestive wink and a nod to indicate her approval of his choice before taking up her place below and to the left of the dais. Yiloch made himself grin in response to her. Hax was the last person he wanted interrogating him over his dour mood. He had last seen the Lady Auryl several years ago. If Hax approved, then she had blossomed nicely and would at least be a complementary political and social accessory. Time would tell what more she had to offer.

Adran entered ahead of Lord and Lady Vyram and Lady Auryl, who walked a few strides behind them. He strode to the front and took up a position opposite Hax as the usher introduced the other three. They continued to the front with formal, measured strides, and knelt before the dais.

“Rise and be welcome,” Yiloch greeted them.

Lady Vyram rose and stepped aside. Lord Vyram also rose, sweeping an arm back to present his daughter.

“We are honored, Emperor Yiloch, to present to you our daughter, Lady Auryl Desile.” He stepped aside then, taking a place next to his wife as Lady Auryl stepped forward and executed a graceful curtsy at the foot of the dais.

“My family and I are honored to accept your proposal, your Eminence.”

Her voice was soft and melodic, trained to a perfect tone. Long, silvery hair with a hint of the same violet that accented her pale eyes framed slender, snow-pale features. Several fine braids wove throughout her hair, wound back into an elaborate knot and held in place with clips studded with diamonds and purple sapphires to match the brilliant necklace she wore. Her long, off-shoulder dress was pale silver, accented with deep purple embroidery and lace. Altogether a beautiful display, designed to suit an emperor. Like a bouquet one might find centered on the dining table. She was every bit the proper choice as far as presentation went.

“It is my pleasure, Lady Auryl,” he replied, infusing his voice with a sincerity only partially forced. “I hope your chambers are suitable.”

“More than suitable, my lord.” She answered with a calculated pause, careful not to make him wait, but still refined in tone and manner.

The formal greetings aside, Yiloch considered her for a minute, noting that she was steady under his gaze.

Confidence born of vanity, or was there something more behind that well-trained facade
?

“If it would please you, Lady Auryl, you may take time to rest before supper or, if you would rather, you are welcome to join me for a walk on the ocean terrace.”

“It would please me greatly to walk with you, my lord.”

There was a spark of something in her eyes that coaxed a smile to his lips. She brightened in response, a hint of color flushing her pale cheeks.

Rising, he offered a slight bow to her parents. “By your leave…”

Both nodded vigorously before he could say more. “Please my lord,” Lord Vyram said, extending one hand to offer his daughter.

Yiloch nodded and offered his arm, which Auryl accepted, laying her hand ever so delicately at the crook of his elbow. “If you have need of anything, please feel free to ask any of the servants,” he added to her parents. “Lord Captain Adran will show you around the palace.”

He turned to Auryl, resting a hand over the one she’d placed on his arm. “Would you like to see the shore gardens?”

“Certainly, my lord, but the rain is fierce without.”

“So it is.” Yiloch glanced over one shoulder. “Creator Ian, please join us.”

Ian walked down from the dais, stopping to bow before them. “I would be honored to offer my services.” He gave Auryl a charming smile that earned a light laugh from her.

“This is my lead Creator Ian.”

“Oh, yes. The young prodigy my father mentioned.” She addressed Ian directly then. “When he came back from my Lord Yiloch’s campaign, he spoke very highly of your skill.”

Ian flushed bright, still an awkward boy around ladies. “I’m flattered to hear it,” he muttered.

Her conduct was pleasing. If this were any indication of her normal manner, then she would not only make a fine empress, but might also prove to be reasonable company as well.

With Ian following behind, Yiloch led the way out to the multi-level terraces between the palace and the shore gardens. The moment they stepped outside, Ian created a barrier to block the wind and rain. Auryl laughed and held one hand out into the rain beyond the invisible barrier. Playing along with her, Ian extended the barrier over her hand and she laughed again, beaming over her shoulder at him. They walked down the stairs that wound between the levels, gradually descending to the lower gardens that opened to a rocky coastline. Waves crashed into the rocks, sending a magnificent spray into the air against the backdrop of the stormy sky. It was the kind of spectacular and powerful display that only nature could create.

Auryl stopped, tugging gently on Yiloch’s arm. When he stopped and looked down at her, she turned to gaze out over the straight for a few seconds then looked back at the palace that would soon be her home.

“It is a magnificent palace.”

Yiloch glanced up at the massive structure now looming above them. It was stunning, rising up in shades of blue, white and silver like a castle of ice, but it had lost some of its glamour for him. He humored her though. “It is. Every emperor adds something to it. I believe my great-grandfather added the best feature with the crystal ceiling he had created over the throne room.”

She looked up at him, pale violet eyes dusky in the dim gray light. “And what will you add, my lord?”