Tempered Hearts (Hearts of Valentia Book 1) (22 page)

Bronson chuckled. “I’d send you directly to my second cousin, Ebin, then. Some of my family might take advantage of your interest, but he’s most likely to give you a fair price.”

He inserted the key in the center of the iridian crystal wheel, then turned the handle hard to the right, the gears instantly set into motion, grinding and spinning away as the solid door behind it opened outwards. Her breath held, the sudden glow of gold and the sparkle of jewels rendered her speechless. She knew dwarves were collectors of wealth, but she never imagined the sheer volume of hoarded treasure the yar’s vault would contain.

He entered without ceremony, but Ehlren held her back a moment. “Be careful not to touch a thing, Your Highness,” he whispered. “I’ve heard rumors of wards placed here.”

Not that she would’ve dared so much anyway, but she nodded and kept it in mind.

Being inside the vault was nearly overwhelming. She did her best not to step on the overflowing coins and smaller jewels, but it was mostly impossible. The piles climbed toward the forty-foot ceiling, looking as though they could tip and start an avalanche at any moment. Past all of the initial wealth, however, the items became far more tempting for her to touch. Massive, reaching branches of raw veins of metal, stripped of the rock they were encased in, reached up with long, filamental fingers. One of the seven natural sculptures they passed looked to be a rare find of drakari nickel, its red tint unmistakable. She’d only ever seen it as small accents on larger pieces. Such a large amount would be worth a fortune to a jeweler. There were other large crystals of various hues, all taller than most men, assembled like a small forest to either side of the cleared path. She paused for just a moment to enjoy the magical beauty of it before hurrying to catch up to the yar.

Past all of the displayed items, the bounty changed into stacks of unassuming chests, all secured with iridian crystal locks. Yar Bronson stopped beside one of them, already bent and opening the box at his feet.

“I believe this is what the lady was looking for,” he said as he pushed back the lid.

She gasped. Hundreds of metal shards were contained inside the box. “So many? That’s incredible.”

He stood and shrugged. “Well, over the course of a thousand years, we’ve unearthed quite a few. That any at all are still intact is far more amazing. We keep these not because they’re very useful, but in hopes of discovering a way they might be remade. This is only one of five boxes of these in this vault. Other nobles here have more. We mostly present them as rewards for great deeds and achievements, as they’re symbolic of what we were and are capable of.” He reached into the chest and carefully selected ten shards, each as long as her thumb, then looked to Ehlren, expectant.

The general jerked a bit, but seemed to know what he wanted. Clearing his throat, he undid a pouch from his belt and emptied coins from it into his pocket before presenting the bag to Bronson.

The yar stuffed all ten shards inside the leather pouch and handed it to her with a gracious bow. “Dearest lady, may these represent the grand achievements you will aspire to in your reign as queen.”

With complete reverence, she took the pouch in two hands, marveling at the riches— the potential— resting between her palms. “I promise, Yar Bronson, that I will strive to be deserving of this honor.” She looked up at him, beaming with happiness. “Anything I might discover, I swear to share with your people at every opportunity. If I can help bring back what you’ve lost, I will do it. Thank you so very, very much. You’ve no idea how great a gift this is for me.”

The yar’s cheeks flushed red above his graying beard. “You are…” He gave a blustering cough before waving it off. “You’re most welcome.” His hand rested on her back as he steered her back towards the entrance. “Now, how about we discuss how long Ogtern gets to enjoy your presence. Are you comfortable at the ambassador’s house? Doma’s a fine host, but you’d be welcome guests in my home as well. You are, after all, the rulers of Valentia. I’d not want to be seen as slighting human royalty.”

She chuckled and reattached herself to his arm, as his hand was beginning to stray a little lower than she liked. “It’s no slight at all, I assure you. We much prefer to be treated as any emissary here, as it’s important to keep one’s humility for reaching level-headed decisions about matters of state. And I’d be concerned it would set a rather bad precedent for any other visitors you receive here. That’s an incredibly kind offer to make, all the same. I suppose you could ask Darius his preference, if you like. He’s far more experienced than I am with your amazing city, so I’d defer to his judgment in this case.”

They strolled back through the vault, continuing their benign banter. Ehlren’s eyes burned into the back of her head the whole way so intently was he watching. While she understood Darius sent him to make sure the yar behaved appropriately, it was annoyingly similar to her mother’s behavior before her wedding. Did everyone think her such a fragile thing incapable of defending herself? She might not’ve been a master swordsman, but she spent enough time around weapons to know how to use one when pressed to do so.

Ehlren led her back towards the lift as the yar relocked the vault, and he again leaned in close, whispering to her. “I’m taking the liberty of making your excuses to the yar as to why you can’t stay and join him for lunch.”

She blinked at him. “Was I invited for such a thing?”

He gave her a flat look. “You play the game well enough, Highness, but tarry much longer with him and he’ll become much bolder than you’re prepared for. I was charged with your safety, and I won’t take any chances.”

She sighed and nodded. “Very well. I understand your position. The athenaeum, then?”

The yar rejoined them, the final grinding of the gears locking into place echoing through the chamber as they reached the lift. “Shall we go?” He asked as he opened the gate for her.

“Thank you, yes,” she said, trying to control the quaver in her voice. If she didn’t have to ride another lift for a long, long time, she’d be eternally grateful.

Chapter 22

Darius

The mine was exactly as Ehlren described. The perfectly carved out walls of the tunnels were a testament to dwarven efficiency, and the lighting was impeccable compared to human equivalents. Miles below the city, they explored tunnel after tunnel with their reluctant guide, a dwarf by the name of Kiff who owed him a favor. Darius was most interested in the newest sections, and even Vennic agreed the entire place was as clean as a mine could possibly be.

“That’s the last tunnel there,” Kiff said, his eyes shifting from side to side as though he might be able to see the disease creeping up on him. “They tapped into a spring from the underside during exploration, but wound around it easy enough. It’s about half a mile from the end of that track. Can’t miss it. They had to give it up on account of everyone getting sick. No men to dig it out any deeper without abandoning richer tunnels.”

Darius crossed his arms and smirked at the skinny dwarf, amused by his twitchy tics. “Does that mean you’re not coming in with us?”

He sniffed, tugging at his thin beard. “Said I’d get you near the end. This is as near as I go.”

Rolling his eyes, Darius turned away. “Then wait here for us. If you hear screaming, it’s up to you to inform my wife. Not a pleasant task, I’d imagine.”

The gray rocks of the tunnel looked no different from any of the others they explored. After nearly ten minutes of walking, they heard the rush of water, a turn around a bend revealing the source shortly after. Liquid cascaded from an alcove to the right, the water gathering in a pool below it. Strangely, it never seemed to get any deeper, though neither Vennic nor Darius could see where it drained out to prevent flooding. If the spring flowed with that much strength for at least a few weeks, it was very odd the entire place hadn’t flooded.

They reached the end of the tunnel with nothing more to show for it than when they went in. Vennic paused at the water again on the way back, but only frowned before continuing out. They scrutinized the walls as they went, looking for any signs of a haegaroi presence, but not so much as an odd scratch or splatter of blood was anywhere to be seen. The moment they were clear, Kiff set off for the topside, more than ready to be away from the cursed cavern, and he disappeared immediately after he collected the coin promised him in exchange for his services.

“Well, that was a waste of a day,” Vennic said, stretching as they wound their way back towards the ambassador’s house.

“All that water was a bit odd, but aside from the mysterious draining issue, there wasn’t anything else suspect about it. No discoloration, no foul smell, and, as Ehlren said, cleaner than almost anything else down there.”

“Too good to be true?”

Darius snorted. “Are you volunteering to test it?”

He opened his mouth to retort, but a young dwarf boy rushed up to them, out of breath from running.

“Proseika,” he said, gasping, “General Ehlren said to give you this when you came up from the pits.”

He traded the missive for a coin, and the boy scurried off, clutching his prize. Unfolding the parchment, Darius read the words with ever increasing incredulity. “I may actually strangle that dwarf.”

“What’s happened?” Vennic’s eyebrows shot up in alarm. “Is Arden in trouble?”

He ground his teeth together. “He’s taken the Light of Valentia on a little adventure. Dinner at the Tinker & Fang.”

His mouth fell open. “He what?”

“Seems he decided to indulge her curiosity about my former life. We’d better get going. There’s no telling what horrors that crowd will introduce her to.”

They ran through the streets, dodging vendors and messengers and people idly gossiping outside the shops of the market district. Even in their haste, it took them twenty minutes to get to the most infamous public house in all of Ogtern. As they neared the Tinker & Fang, however, they slowed, curious and anxious about the small crowd gathered outside. Pushing through the doorway, a familiar voice immediately brought Darius to a screeching halt, Vennic slamming into his back as they caught sight of the person perched on the edge of the bar.

“So then she says…” Arden giggled a bit. “She says, what do you mean that’s all there is? It was twice that size in the barn last night!”

The place erupted in laughter, Arden at the center of it all, doubled over and shoulders shaking, near bursting over her own joke. Arden telling bawdy stories to dwarves? Was he hallucinating?

The uproar died down as he stared at her, and she caught his eye with a broad grin, waving him over as she turned and reached for a mug beside her. He loudly cleared his throat, the men in front of him immediately turning and shrinking away when they saw the disapproving look on his face. Without another word, he marched up to the bar and took the drink from her hands.

“Might I ask what my wife is doing sitting on top of the bar drinking…” he sniffed the contents of her cup and instantly recoiled. “Dwarven brandywine? What in the—”

She snatched it back with a cool look. “Don’t be such a pick, Darius.” She leaned down to the dwarf near her knees. “Did I use that right?”

The stubby-faced blond chuckled. “Aye, lady. That you did.”

“Did you just call me a pick?”

She took a sip and nodded once. “As in pick axe, or, the tool that breaks up all the fun.”

“I know what it means,” he growled and reached for her cup again, but she held it out of his reach. “Where’s Ehlren?”

“Oh! I almost forgot!” She hopped down off the bar, grabbing his arm to drag him away. “Over here.”

He stumbled after her, trying to keep up as she danced her way through the crowd. “Arden, how much of that have you had to—”

“You found some!” she said as they stopped by a corner table near the back. “Wonderful timing! And look who finally turned up.”

Ehlren was already well into his cups and met his cool stare with a half-glazed grin. “The proseika returns with his faithful bloodhound in tow! Sit! Sit! I thought I’d introduce Her Royal Highness to the high stakes of Fortune’s Folly. Halga,” he bellowed at the passing barmaid, “two pints for my compatriots here, and another brandywine for the lady.”

“High stakes?” Darius said as he slid onto the bench beside Arden. “What stakes? I know how you play, Ehlren. You can’t afford to match the royal treasury.”

In the middle of taking a drink, he nearly choked on his ale. “Don’t be stupid, man! We’re playing for much more valuable things here.”

Vennic sat beside him with a resigned sigh. “And what’s that?”

“Hidden truths,” Arden said with a giggle. “The currency of the nobility.”

“I already didn’t like this idea,” Darius grumbled. “Now I like it even less.”

“What’s the all the fuss?” she said, waving at Ehlren to shuffle the cards. “We’re two of your closest friends and your wife. There’s no harm in it.”

And so began his test of will. Arden, being Arden, led Ehlren to believe she never played the game before, but Darius knew better. The dwarf went easy on her to start, and she purposely played poorly, easing him and Vennic into smug security. Ehlren took the first hand, immediately leveling Arden with a serious, if not wobbly, stare.

“The first truth comes from you, Highness. Tell me, is your husband as surly in bed as he is in the pub?”

Mid-swallow, Darius spit half of it back into his cup at the question. Arden nearly toppled over with laughter.

“Stars, he’s worse!” she gasped between giggles. “So serious all the time. You’d not believe how hard I work to make him crack a smile.”

Darius scowled at Ehlren. “I think we need a few rules for this game.”

She elbowed him a little. “You’ll just have to win next time, that’s all. Shall we go again? I think I’m getting the hang of it now.”

Three hands in, he decided the real goal was to divulge as many truths about
him
as possible, rather than about the players in general. Vennic asked Ehlren if he ever caught Darius sneaking cookies from a kitchen, which of course he had, and then regaled everyone with the story of how he got his arm stuck behind a cupboard to get at a hidden stash. Ehlren went next, asking how many pints Darius had the night before they infiltrated the Sigur clan’s hideout to steal back a potion formula, which naturally included the post script where he punched the man who hired them because he wouldn’t stop shouting about the blood on the parchment. Two drinks into the game, Arden changed tactics.

“Finally!” she said, completely overjoyed at winning the hand. “My question goes to… Ehlren.”

The dwarf yielded with a wave. “Ask away.”

“What would you have done if the yar had tried for more than a hand on my backside?”

Darius sat up straight in his seat, instantly angry. “What?”

The unsheathing of a weapon preceded Ehlren’s knife embedded in the tabletop. “Used this, dear lady.”

She considered the dagger. “You should take better care of that. It’s very dull.”

He grimaced. “I know. Makes it hurt more.”

“A hand on your— when was this?” Darius demanded.

She waved it off. “I handled it. It’s your deal.”

Fuming, he took a long drink of ale and motioned for another, determined to win the next round. But for all his effort, she won again.

“Vennic,” she said, eyes twinkling, “when was the last time you kissed someone?”

Darius couldn’t remember ever seeing Vennic blush, but at her question, the elf turned scarlet all the way up to the tips of his pointed ears. “Excuse me?”

“You look as though it’s been a very long time since you’ve been kissed.” She stood and pressed her palms against the table, squinting at him. “So, when was the last time?”

Ehlren burst out laughing. “If you don’t tell her, I will.”

Glowering, Vennic grumbled something unintelligible.

Arden leaned closer. “Pardon?”

“I said,” he crossed his arms and huffed, “I haven’t.”

Her eyes went wide with surprise for a moment, but then she perked up, clambering over Darius’s lap before pulling the elf to his feet. Vennic shot him a panicked look, but before either of them could act, Arden threw herself into his arms and plastered her face against his. After the initial shock of it wore off, Darius shot out of the booth, pulling her off him to keep himself from punching his best friend.

“This game is over.” He grabbed her hand, all but dragging her out of the pub as she giggled and waved to everyone they passed.

“Am I your pet now?” she said, struggling in his grasp. “Really, Darius.”

He continued marching them up the street to the ambassador’s house. “Don’t ‘really, Darius’ me, Arden. Have you lost all your senses? What was all that about back there?”

“Having fun. What else?” She caught up to him, and he released her, fairly certain she wouldn’t immediately run back. “You should try it sometime.”

“You think kissing other men in front of me is fun?”

“It was only Vennic.” She tossed her braid over her shoulder. “Does it bother you that your best friend knows your wife as well as you do now?”

He stopped and looked at her, torn between raging mad and utterly dumbfounded she’d say such a thing, never mind that she was clearly trying to bait him that way. But as he looked at her, she hiccupped and wavered on her feet, undeniably drunk.

He took a deep breath and tried to be patient with her. Instead of answering her question, he wrapped an arm around her waist and led her up the road.

“You have a dangerous gift, Arden. I’m learning your tricks, and I won’t fall for them tonight. You’ll thank me in the morning.”

Arden was silent for the remainder of the walk. He left her in the bedroom while he went to change, and when he returned she was passed out across the bed, boots and all. Sighing, he removed her shoes first, then untied the laces running down the front of her corset. When he eased her up to remove it, she slung her arms across his shoulders, eyes closed and barely conscious.

“You’re much better than silly old Vennic,” she mumbled, slurred by sleep and alcohol. “But he doesn’t want me, either.”

Darius winced, heart aching at her words. “You are wanted, asahana.”

Her lips fluttered as she made a dismissive noise. “Liar.”

As gently as he could, he laid her back on the pillows, and watched as sleep dragged her under. He brushed the hair from her face, placing it behind her ear.

“I could never lie to you, Arden. If I could, you’d never have heard that other name cross my lips. I’d have taken you on our wedding night, lying about what we were. You are honest with me, and I will always be honest with you.”

He tucked the covers up around her, then leaned in close, brushing his lips against hers.

“You are wanted, asahana,” he repeated in a whisper, “but I am not yet free of her.”

Arden

The first thing she did was groan. The second was wince at the pain in her head brought on by the sound of the groan. The third was realize how suddenly her stomach was churning, which led to her dashing out of bed and vomiting in the dressing room basin.

“I did try to stop you,” Darius said in the doorway, in between her heaves. Arden was sure he was laughing at her, though she couldn’t hear his chuckles over the noise she was making.

When she settled some, he set a wet cloth and a glass of water on the table beside her and saw himself out, closing the door as he went. She kept her eyes shut against the light of the room, thankful she was underground and not in the full brightness of day at least. Was it her, or was it a bit breezier than it should’ve been? Glancing at her legs, she squeaked in horror. Her pants were gone, leaving her only in her knickers and tunic. What had she done the night before? Certainly she hadn’t…

Arden straightened and did a quick internal check of herself. Aside from nausea and a raging headache, nothing else felt any different. She was fairly certain she’d feel some sort of discomfort or lingering muscle strains if her husband finally capitulated to his duty, but with all the riding she’d been doing, she couldn’t be sure. After a long rinse with the water and cleanup with the towel, she decided she should find out. And since her pants were nowhere to be found, she squared her shoulders and returned to the bedroom with as much dignity as she could muster.