Sky of Wind by Emily Deady

Chapter 11

As Meena entered the palace, Celesta squeezed her hand, refusing to budge. The girl might have been young, but she was far too good at reading people and lips to allow herself to be coddled.

Meena turned and crouched until her face was level with Celesta’s furrowed brow. “Everything is going to be well.” She squeezed her friend’s small hand reassuringly and though she did not know if her words would be true, she knew she would do everything in her power to make them true.

The silence in the castle was deafening. Heavy footfalls and closing doors sounded all around her, but the joyful chatter of servants and nobles was suspiciously absent.

Celesta huddled close to Meena as they wound upstairs and through the halls of the family wing. Meena hated when her family coddled her—she was the youngest and the only girl—and she felt bad that she had not explained the situation to Celesta. The poor girl was probably imagining a situation far worse than the truth. Meena pinched her lips closed in helplessness. This time the real situation was probably the worst possible thing that could happen.

Instead of going to the bedrooms, Meena brought Celesta straight to the family salon. It was the safest place in the castle. Not only was it high in the center keep, but it was the place where she always went to seek her comfort. Queen Cara spent many hours here, working over correspondence and managing the kingdom and household from the worn wooden desk against the wall. At the moment, her mother’s desk was empty. The queen would be in the great hall, supporting her kingdom, not hiding away.

At the sound of their entrance, a matronly woman entered the salon from the other side of the room. Her forehead was creased with worry and she bustled across the room toward them.

“Mistress Marie,” Meena said, keeping her tone forcibly light. “Could you see to it that Celesta gets a nice warm tea?”

The fear drained from Marie’s face as she smiled warmly at the young girl. “Of course, my lady.” She stepped forward and held out an inviting hand. “It would be my pleasure. And I might be able to squeeze in a treat from cook too.”

Celesta reached out with her free hand, placing it in Mistress Marie’s. Her other hand remained tightly in Meena’s. She bit her lip, looking back at Meena with concern and unwilling to be relinquished without knowing what was going on.

Meena squeezed back. “I don’t know what’s happening,” she said truthfully, emphasizing her words with a shake of her head and a shrug of her shoulders. “But I will find out, and I will bring Aizel back to you.”

Celesta nodded in understanding and released Meena’s hand. Meena gently touched the young girl’s wild curls and smiled softly, but this time for real. “I’ll make sure everything will be well.”

Marie pursed her lips. “And what can I get for you, my princess?” Her question was innocent, but her voice held a note of displeasure.

Meena shook her head. “Nothing. Just keep her safe and distracted.”

Marie had worked at the palace since before Meena was born. She narrowed her eyes at the princess. “You mean ‘we’. We will keep her safe and distracted.”

Meena shook her head, backing toward the door.

Marie raised her chin and her voice. “I’ve been told to keep you safely here.”

“Not if you never saw me.” Meena threw the words over her shoulder as she dashed out of the room. The large hall was on the opposite side of the palace and Meena did not care that her shoes slapped against the stone floor as she ran. Her heart was racing, pounding in her throat. Without Celesta at her side, she did not have to hide the terror that seemed to be squeezing her from the inside out. She didn’t care that she shouldn’t be flying so fast inside. If she went any slower, she would explode. Besides, it was an unusual event, and she didn’t have to worry about silly rules. But she relished the moment to break this one. This was one thing she could control, and it helped to ease her mind.

Sol glancedaround the small room adjacent to the great hall. Just like the tree he’d been in quite recently, it was a place where one could easily hide and view an area while no one would know they were watching. Specifically designed holes on the back of a wooden carving allowed the room’s occupants a clear view of everything that went on in the hall below.

“You are so gracious to welcome us, King Frederich.” The councilor’s loud voice carried directly into the small room occupied by Sol and Aizel.

Standing in the center of the great hall, the councilor stood facing a raised dais, upon which sat the king, his wife, and their four sons.

A single empty chair at the end of the line indicated where the princess would have been seated.

“Had I had more notice of your coming, Councilor Younn” the king replied to the councilor. “I would have been better equipped to prepare a welcome for you and your large company.”

Sol heard both a politeness and a barbed threat in the king’s words.

A line of Chendas soldiers paraded quietly into the room from a large open door at the end of the hall. As though practiced in advance, the soldiers lined themselves around the four walls of the massive room.

King Frederich only had four guards stationed around the dais. The formation of the Chendas soldiers blocked all exits from the room, cutting the king off from his own men.

Sol squeezed his hands into fists.

“I am pleased to see that all of your children look well,” the councilor said. His eyes seemed to scan the row of chairs. Sol was some distance away, but it seemed the man stared particularly long at Erich.

“Your concern is appreciated, but I doubt it is the reason for your visit,” Frederich replied.

“My dear Frederich,” Councilor Younn said, dropping the honorific title. “My King Gareth was comforted to hear news of Aden’s miraculous cure. Is that not reason enough to send a delegation?” Even as he spoke, soldiers continued to march into the room behind him, building up their human wall another layer deep, so that two rows of soldiers lined the room.

“Gareth’s comfort comforts me,” King Frederich responded. Sol admired the imperious tone of the man’s voice, even though he was clearly outnumbered in his own home. “However, it seems Gareth recently attempted to harm one of my own children. I was hoping you would have more clarity on that matter.”

“My king sends his deepest apologies for any misunderstanding that has happened between your great houses.” The councilor bowed low, swinging his arm as though in a performance.

“Misunderstanding?” Frederich emphasized the single word.

The councilor lifted his head, moving back into a standing position. But before he could respond, the side door of the great hall slammed open.

“Princess, you cannot—” a guard’s voice cut short as it entered the great hall.

From his limited view, Sol could only see an unruly commotion in the line of Chendas soldiers who stood in front of the door as Meena pressed her way through them. She smiled brightly as she walked across the hall and ascended the dais to her family.

Meena gaveher father a respectful nod before she sat on the large chair beside Erich. She hoped her dramatic entrance had not flustered him, but regal stability on his face never wavered as he made eye contact with her. She would have entered more quietly if the guards at the door hadn’t tried so hard to keep her out.

“I apologize for my late entrance, Father.” Meena spoke loud enough for most of the room to hear. “I was . . . seeing to someone.”

“The councilor was apologizing for Gareth’s misunderstanding.”

Meena turned to face Councilor Younn. His average height and build were overpowered by the thick quilted doublet he wore, which seemed to add an entire hand’s width to his girth.

“As I was saying,” the councilor bent forward, though Meena had no idea how it was possible through the thick layers of fabric surrounding his middle. “My king sends his deepest apologies for any misunderstanding that has happened between your great houses.”

As the councilor apologized with flowery words, Meena risked a glance to Erich at her side. He lounged comfortably in his seat, resting his head on his hands and looking almost bored.

Meena wanted to pinch him. These men had attempted to literally chop off his head barely a sennight prior.

Erich seemed completely unperturbed, but Meena could see that his half-closed eyes were watching Younn intently. She was relieved to see they had been sensible enough to keep Aizel out of sight.

“He has been under great pressure preparing the kingdoms for the return of the Majis,” the councilor continued his carefully rehearsed lines. “It was a lapsed moment of judgment. He sends these gifts to you as a sign of his goodwill.”

Four soldiers stepped forward, placing elaborate silver platters on a small table below the dais.

“He sends us sweetmeats as an apology for his lapsed judgment?” King Frederich’s controlled rage was beginning to surface.

Meena tapped her fingers against the wooden armrest of her chair, playing out a melody only she could hear. Chendas soldiers continued to pour through the main door, lining themselves up three deep around the room.

Standing from his chair, Erich sauntered to the edge of the dais and lifted the lid from one of the platters.

“Erich.” Ian’s voice held a note of reproach from the seat next to their father.

Younn watched Erich’s movement through heavily lidded eyes.

“These look delicious,” Erich said, reaching down to grab one.

Two of the soldiers standing next to the councilor took a half step forward.

Meena’s frantic fingers tapped faster. “Bring me one,” she called to Erich, keeping her voice light. Keeping the forced smile on her face, she bit her tongue so she wouldn’t say anything further. It was little wonder the king of Chendas had wanted to murder her brother. She rather felt like doing so herself.

Erich took a bite of the sweetmeat as he stood back up. He groaned as he chewed it. “The best I’ve ever had. Send my dear friend Gareth my thanks.”

The two Chendas soldiers relaxed back into the place beside the councilor as Erich turned back to his seat.

Her brother was a nincompoop. No one else would have the spite to dangle their existence in front of the enemy who wanted them dead.

Sitting beside her, Erich handed Meena a pretty little morsel of dried fruits dusted in sugar.

She smiled her thanks as she accepted it, shooting a glare at Erich that he appeared not to notice.

“As a sign of his goodwill,” Younn repeated the last thing he had said, then stopped.

Meena barely caught the sly wink Erich sent her way. He’d successfully distracted the councilor from King Frederich’s growing anger.

“As another token of his goodwill,” the councilor corrected himself. “My king has offered Iseldis his close and personal attention. As we speak, squadrons of his own soldiers are making their way to the coast, ready and prepared to defend you against should the need arise.”

Meena absently raised the sweetmeat to her lips, taking her cue from Erich to remain as unconcerned as possible to continue toying with Younn.

“And if I did not wish for Gareth’s aid in the defense of my kingdom?” King Frederich asked. His words were crisp but controlled.

The councilor dipped his head in acknowledgment. “My king would take personal offense at your refusal of his offer of reconciliation.”

Meena choked on the bite in her mouth. She coughed loudly into her hand, attempting to clear her airway. The councilor was threatening to make them prisoners in their own kingdom, but her mind could not even fathom the thought as she coughed.

Erich jumped from his seat and started to pound her back.

Meena sputtered loudly as the morsel dislodged and continued peacefully down her throat. She heaved in great gulps of air, pushing Erich’s fist away.

“Princess?” the councilor asked, concern lacing his loud voice.

“I am well.” Meena held up a hand to stop his questions, keeping her face turned down. She wasn’t ready to look at the room yet. She’d just made an absolute fool of herself in front of countless strangers. “I was enjoying it so much I ate it too quickly.”

“Would you like another?” Younn asked.

“No!” Meena put a hand on her chest, forcing a cough to undermine the strength of her rebuke. “Please, carry on.”

King Frederich sent a shrewd look to Meena.

She smiled weakly. He probably thought she’d faked the choking, but she couldn’t explain to him here and now that it was real. Although, she couldn’t deny it had been excellent timing to draw everyone’s attention her way while her father processed the threat.

“What other signs of goodwill does Gareth wish to bestow?” Frederich asked.

“Getting greedy now, your majesty?” The councilor’s smile made even Meena angry. “I jest, I jest.” He held up a placating hand. “My king has three other offerings. The soldiers you see here have been gifted to you for defense of the castle, as well as my humble self.” He bowed. Again. “I will aid you with my knowledge to the best of my ability.”

Meena struggled to breathe, although she couldn’t tell if it was from the fear which gripped her heart or the scratching feeling in her throat. It would be difficult to get Sol out of the castle with their new guests.

“What an honor,” King Frederich replied through clenched teeth. His hands gripped the arms of his chair. His white knuckles contrasted with the growing red that covered his face.

“Finally,” the councilor continued. “King Gareth will personally oversee all incoming and outbound ships of trade, so that you can focus solely on the needs of your people during this difficult season.”

If Gareth controlled the outbound ships, Sol would never make it to Falqri. And they would have no hope of destroying the store of magic.

King Frederich stood slowly. From his place on the dais, he was the tallest man in the room and even the councilor had to lean his head back to see up at him. “I will not be made a prisoner in my own castle.” He spoke slowly, a burning rage fueled every word.

Meena had never heard him so angry before. Ever.

“Father—” Aden started to speak, but the king cut him off.

“You can tell your king that his aid is not wanted here.”

Meena noticed the front line of soldiers on the back wall around the dais step forward in formation. They placed a hand on their sword hilts. Behind them, every other soldier in the second row lifted a crossbow. The soldiers who had moved were strategically placed behind the dais, and it appeared her father either hadn’t noticed or chose not to notice.

The four guards stationed around the dais had definitely noticed, and they grasped their own sword handles, ready to take defense.

“Father.” Meena jumped up, ignoring the part of her mind that told her to keep her mouth closed. The only thing she could do was stall for time before her father declared war on Chendas, sacrificing his life in the process.

“Philomena.” He never used her full name.

“Father.” She did not falter as she walked toward him across the line of her seated brothers. “I think you should try the sweetmeats before you completely reject King Gareth’s kind apology.”

Meena recognized the shock on her father’s face as it mirrored the shock she felt in her own mind. She silently begged him to join her on this surprise adventure. If she had enough time, she could think of something.

“They really are exquisite.” Her mouth continued to blabber about the ridiculous candies as her mind furiously looked for a way to get Sol out of the country as soon as possible with suspicion. Preferably in a way that did not involve the death of anyone in her family. “Like something from a feast, or a wedding even.”

Smiling at Younn, she swooped down to pick up another sweet from the tray.

“Imagine these at a wedding. Our cook could never hope to compete with something this elegant.”

She heard the restless sound of the soldiers shuffling their feet. She was running out of time.

“Philomena, you should not have come here,” King Frederich stepped forward, reaching out toward her. “She is beside herself. Erich, take her to her room.”

“Wait,” Meena held up her hand, forcing her body to calm itself so she would be taken seriously. “Do you think King Gareth would be kind enough to send us more of these sweetmeats in time for my wedding next week? Surely as a token of his continued goodwill, the king would personally see to our wedding trip down south.”

The room fell completely silent.

Meena’s mouth went dry. She was saying her thoughts faster than she could think them and she wanted to burst into laughter at the controlled shock on her parent’s faces. She couldn’t believe she’d shared her silliest dream out loud. Of course she had imagined having an exciting romance with the heroic stranger who wanted to save their kingdoms, but now she had proposed it in front of a room full of threatening soldiers and her entire family.

King Frederich dropped to his chair as though his legs could no longer support him. His expression remained as passive as ever, of course, but Meena could see a thousand thoughts running through his eyes. And every muscle on his face appeared to be straining in an effort to not raise his eyebrow at her.

“The Princess is getting married?” The councilor also leaned forward, his smile still disgustingly wide. “This is the first we have heard of it.”

Meena felt her face flushing under her father’s intense stare, but she played it off as embarrassment in front of the councilor. “Well, that’s because it only just happened last night.” She smiled and fluttered her eyelashes. Her thumb started tapping out a furious beat against her thigh and she clutched her hands together to stop the frantic motion. But the nervous energy merely transferred to her foot, which began drawing circles on the stone floor at her feet.

“And who is the honorable choice of King Frederich’s only daughter?” the councilor asked.

At that, King Frederich’s eyebrows really did go up. “Pray, enlighten the room, Meena, and share your good news.”

Meena opened her mouth. Now that she needed it most, her ever-present voice seemed to have betrayed her. She swallowed, glancing quickly around the room with her eyes only, her head was still bowed toward the ground as she couldn’t trust her expression.

Every eye in the room was trained on her. Even the grim soldiers lining the room looked very invested in the conversation. A small smile flitted at her lips as she realized how ridiculous the situation was. Fortunately, happiness was the best emotion to show for an announcement of marriage, so she embraced the smile as she lifted her head. “Yesterday evening—” Her voice was strong and clear. “—with my father’s permission, of course.” She nodded toward her father, but blinked at the right moment so she wouldn’t have to make eye contact with him. “Lord Sol-ah-no and I pledged ourselves to be wed.” She stumbled over Sol’s name, realizing too late that she shouldn’t share his identity. Hopefully no one would notice the slip.

She shot her father a quick glance, though, hoping that he had picked up on her slip.

“Lord Solano?” Younn looked confused.

“From Allys,” Meena glibly supplied, as though everyone should know Lord Solano.

“Solano Gilart.” Erich added. “Son of Lord Gilart. Cousin to the King of Allys.”

“Indeed.” The councilor recovered himself quickly. “Lord Gilart has so many sons, one forgets... often stumbles over their names.”

“An understandable mistake.” King Frederich nodded graciously at the Younn.

Meena exhaled a small sigh of relief. Her father had turned back to their guest and was backing up her claim.

The tension in the room had shifted as the soldiers against the wall relaxed back into their original formation.

“And how does this joyous union increase the goodwill between Chendas and Iseldis?” the councilor asked.

“I don’t know.” Meena shrugged flippantly. “But Solano and I were planning to take an immediate wedding trip to Falqri. It’s rather selfish, really, but I was hoping King Gareth would allow for us to leave from the Iseldis port if he is controlling the outbound ships.” Meena kept talking. “I know Falqri is a favorite destination of his majesty. I’ve never visited there myself, and I’ve always wanted to see why the king loves it so much!” Meena clapped her hands together. She was pushing the topic of Falqri too aggressively.

“His majesty will be most pleased,” the councilor responded. “Especially if you would deign to visit him in Chendas with your new husband.”

The weight of what she was proposing settled on Meena’s chest. She was buying time for her family and kingdom, but she was also placing herself at the whims of the man who had tried to kill multiple members of her family. Iseldis would be too burdened to come to her aid should she need help.

King Frederich’s fingers curled around the armrest of his chair. “The White Palace is a considerable distance from the fort and would be very much out of their way.”

Meena smiled weakly, forcing herself to breathe. This was a simple negotiation. It was not as though her life and kingdom were riding on it. Except they were. Her mouth moved to swallow, but the lump in her throat refused to move. Her fingers returned to their habitual tapping as she tried to recall feeling amused at the situation. She could not panic now.

Meena imagined herself sneaking into the White Palace of Chendas, dressed in darkly colored breeches and a hat that covered her hair. She would slip into the king’s own office and slyly take a magic-filled item from his secret desk drawer that she would discover by a stroke of luck. Then, she would make her escape, leaving through the servants’ hallways so as not to be discovered by the guards. Fortunately, she had not seen any guards in the palace at all, which made her secret mission that much easier.

The sound of clanking armor and shifting feet brought her back to the present moment. The councilor cleared his throat, and the row of soldiers behind him simultaneously shifted in place, as though reminding them of their presence.

“I’m sure the happy couple will be safer coming to Chendas after their wedding trip regardless. I will let his majesty know to expect them by the first day of harvestreign?”

“Yes,” Meena said, before her father could ruin their plan—the plan which was currently working fairly well. Her voice was loud, but still carried a small squeak, which she hoped no one noticed. She could find a way back to Iseldis after they accomplished their mission in Falqri. The important thing at the moment was getting Sol into the enemy’s fortress.

“We would invite you to join us for dinner, Councilor,” King Frederich said. “But I’m sure you have traveled far and fast today and would be more comfortable seeing to your men than entertaining an old monarch like myself.”

“You are too kind, your majesty.” The councilor bowed, dipping nothing more than his head at his shoulders. His eyes lingered on each member of the royal family, sending a ghosted smile at Meena last. “May your marriage be long and prosperous, Princess Philomena.”

She dipped her own head imperceptibly in thanks.

Younn left the room, and his soldiers filed out after him.

Meena waited until every soldier had left the room before she turned to face her family.

“An intriguing plan, little sister.” Erich was the first to speak. He quirked an eyebrow at her. “But who’s going to tell Sol?”