Chapter 4
Eyes of Sun-Kissed Amber
Aslyn Kiernan, Crown Princess of Novavito, hated Emperor Oxon’s Arithian ambassador. Her dealings with him had been minimal at her parents’ request for years. But she could only avoid Ambassador Umbogo for so long if she was ever to take the throne. And with the death of a High Lord—an assassination courtesy of Blackblade—Aslyn could avoid Umbogo no longer.
The emperor’s ambassador moved around the throne room as if he were the king, ordering servants about and putting lesser nobles in their place. Only when one of the royal family approached did he become more subservient.
The throne room of the Arithian palace stood as a breathtaking testament to the kingdom’s grandeur and majesty. Its pristine white walls, adorned with intricate gold filigree, gleamed under the soft glow of crystal chandeliers that hung from the vaulted ceiling like celestial stars.
At the heart of the chamber, upon a raised dais of polished marble, sat the throne of the king, a magnificent seat of ivory and gold that commanded reverence and respect.
The tall windows on one side of the chamber provided a view of a waterfall, with its crystalline waters tumbling gracefully down the mountainside before spilling into a series of cascading fountains that adorned the lower levels of the palace. From there, the waters flowed further still, coursing through channels that wound their way down into the heart of the city below.
The air was heavy with the scent of exotic flowers and the gentle murmur of cascading water, lending an aura of tranquility to the proceedings.
But that tranquility fell flat on Aslyn.
Tomorrow would be the funeral. Dalma had only been a day from Arithia when she received the message about her husband. Aslyn had offered her most heartfelt apologies in the letter and asked her to come straight to the palace upon arrival, where she would be taken care of during her period of mourning. It was the least Aslyn could offer.
Besides, she was sure Dalma would not want to return to her bedroom in her own home, where her husband’s blood still stained the mattress.
Dalma hardly said a word when she arrived at the palace late the previous night under heavy royal guard. She had ignored Dorin when he attempted to greet her, his face streaked with tears. Aslyn didn’t understand why he was so upset over Ned’s death. He had been fiercely jealous of the marriage. Her only conclusion was that Dorin felt the grief for Dalma, his dear friend.
But Dalma had given him the cold shoulder, devastating what little remained in Dorin. Aslyn’s heart broke for her brother as she watched his face shatter at the dismissal, the way he appeared near collapse.
Queen Giata insisted Dalma be given a day to herself to mourn before being put on display in front of the kingdom, and Aslyn couldn’t help but agree.
Tomorrow, Dalma would commit her husband’s soul to the goddess Astra in the Stellar Passage funeral. “So he might find his way and guide us all safely home,” Dalma had said through her grief. And that was all she had said before closing the door to her guest suite. Already, city guards worked with Black Guards to prepare the funeral route.
Aslyn oversaw the organization of the event alongside the king and queen… and Umbogo. Several other lords and ladies ventured into the palace to assist, but Aslyn was fairly certain as she mingled that they were simply seeking favor from the Kiernan royals. After all, a major position had just become available.
Aslyn wanted to punch all the sniveling sycophants in the face. She understood why they held court—so that these nobles could have answers to some of their questions and to assuage fears. Doing so would keep those questions out of the funeral proceedings tomorrow.
Aslyn snatched a drink off a passing serving tray and meandered toward the window overlooking the waterfall and the city below.
The palace was not so far up that everything looked small, but it certainly made her feel small to peer over everything from such a distance. She watched the river roads that passed by the palace and out toward the ocean, noting the black figures “helping” the city guards.
Emperor Oxon’s men. His presence in this city was endless, with his soldiers always watching, always waiting somewhere in the shadows. She almost feared them more than Blackblade… almost.
As the crown princess, it was Aslyn’s duty to move through the room and engage in conversation, establishing alliances with these nobles. But she couldn’t make herself care. Her mind continued to drift to Ned. To Blackblade.
Where was Blackblade now? Was he still in the city?
She heaved a sigh that seemed to come from her toes.
“Such a heavy sigh for such a light thing.” Umbogo’s voice slid across her skin like slime.
Aslyn schooled her features calm, pleasant even, and turned to face Umbogo as he joined her beside the window.
“That’s quite a view,” he remarked.
“I suppose,” Aslyn replied, wishing she could throw her drink in his face and walk away. But her father would flay her alive. “I find little joy in it today, though.”
“You weren’t particularly close to Lord Corinth, I thought?” Umbogo shifted closer, watching her and not the view.
Aslyn threw her gaze at the city once more. “I am friends with his wife. I should think that’s cause enough to feel mournful today.”
He nodded, then glanced at the rest of the nobles mingling in the room as if searching for eavesdroppers. Umbogo leaned closer and lowered his voice. “I’ve heard a rumor that Blackblade might be captured today.”
Aslyn had been in the middle of taking a drink and nearly choked on the sparkling juice. Worse, Umbogo ran his hand along her back as if trying to help her.
The ambassador was fairly new to his post, and perhaps only five years older than Aslyn. His sharp, dark eyes stood out starkly against that pasty skin. There was a deadly beauty to the hard lines of his face. Nothing Aslyn ever wanted to become further acquainted with, though. Nothing more than she had to, anyway.
But she had to form a relationship with Umbogo. At his age, he would likely serve during most of her reign. Which meant they would work closely for a very long time to come.
He seemed to read her train of thought, because he said, “I’ve been trying to gain an audience with our future sovereign for some time.” He cocked his head slightly, studying her eyes intently. “You have such… unique eyes, princess. Like eyes of sun-kissed amber.” She didn’t like the intensity of that stare. “Such beautiful, unique eyes. I believe it would behoove us both to… get to know one another better.”
She had no interest in finding out just what he meant by that. Aslyn changed the subject. “Why do you think Blackblade will be captured?”
A knowing smile curved his sharp cheekbones into something truly menacing. “Call it a hunch. But I intend to ensure you have a long and fruitful reign, princess. What better way to offer my humblest allegiance than with such a precious gift?”
He stepped closer, placing a hand against her lower back as he pointed out at the city. Not just anywhere. His long, thin finger pointed with purpose. “Watch right there. If you see it, then you know I have a rare gift for you indeed.”
She attempted to pinpoint what he indicated, craning her neck slightly for a better view of the city.
Umbogo whispered in her ear, “And then we can talk about just how we might solidify this alliance… together.”
Aslyn turned to push him off and tell him just what she thought of his presumptuous behavior, but Umbogo had already strolled across the throne room to engage in a new conversation.
How could he possibly think of capturing a ghost, a shadow? And just what did he think she would see?
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