Hers to Claim (3 page)

“How did you think the towers were empowered?” Doral
asked, his voice benign.

Adonia s
at bolt upright and paid close attention. She’d heard that tone from Doral before and it usually preceded something lethal. Ramsey and Steffania in their positions near the door had straightened also.

“I thought
it done in the conventional manner; each sigil tower housed a
magistra
and
magister
who performed the Great Rite. I never considered the much-heralded Second Tetriarch a true triad. How could you be? You aren’t of the DeHelios bloodline, and…” Hel’s eyes swung to Fleur and unease furrowed his brow. “There was the old debate about House Constante’s legitimacy. I…thought our Constante queen hot-blooded, desirous of variety…perhaps, one lover insufficient for her...” His voice trailed off.

He extended a hand toward Fleur but
a low growl from Doral cut off what Hel might have said next.

T
he High Lord of Verdantia’s eyes held heat and his clipped words threw down a challenge. “The Senzienza called to us. There was no mistaking Her message. Once the three of us came together, there was no mistaking the authenticity of the Second Tetriarch.”

“Stop it. Both of you.
He didn’t know. He meant no insult.” Fleur’s eyes lifted to hold Hel’s with a slight frown. “You didn’t, did you? Mean to insult me?”

Adonia could have hugged the young woman.
Fleur’s sweet nature defused a potentially lethal confrontation between three proud men.

Hel
straightened and stood stiffly. “Your Majesty, I—”

He never completed his thought as
Fleur’s hands shooed him into silence. “Never mind. It’s not important. Tell us how we can help you and Nyth Uchel.”

Hel
bridged his temple with his hand and rubbed. “I, ah, I need to sit down.” He proceeded to collapse into the chair next to Adonia. “So…no
magistra.
My problem is more ominous than I thought.” He dropped his face into his hands, and Adonia wanted to put a hand out to comfort him—but didn’t. She didn’t know if this proud man would accept her solace or embarrass her again by shrugging it off.

Hel exhaled heavily,
sat up and faced Ari. “As soon as the Haarb retreated from Verdantia, we rebuilt the shattered diamantorre
.
If you re-energized all of the sigil towers on Verdantia, then Torre Bianca
should be lit like a star in the night sky.”

Ari pursed his mouth in thought. “We have always
regretted the absence of Torre Bianca’s light in the eastern skies. Our planetary shield is weak in one quarter of the western hemisphere without her. We assumed the white tower destroyed. We meant to send a party to explore why she remained dark, but…”

Hel nodded. “We are not easy to reach, particularly during winter.”

“Your damned mountain is impossible during winter. A man on foot, perhaps, but not a work party,” Doral murmured.

Ari grunted a
n agreement. “Since the coronation of our queen, the Tetriarch has performed the Great Rite at least once a month—barring those months when our queen’s pregnancies excluded her. Torre Bianca should be as a star dropped from heaven. There is some other malignancy at work.”

Hel
sagged in the chair, his devastation apparent. He scrubbed his face with his hands for a moment and then stood, pacing to the window. “I still have need of a healer and brite-weed.”

Adonia spoke before thinking. “
I am a healer. I will go with him. I would like to see the storied
Nyth Uchel and the celebrated Torre Bianca. I would like to help in whatever way I can.” She rose from her chair and stepped toward Fleur. “You have many skilled medicae to attend you, Ma’am. While not as advanced as some, I am a skilled healer, and I’m used to hardship. I have studied with all the medicae at the High Enclave. From the sounds of conditions, I’d give ninety percent of them a week, or less, before they retreated to Sylvan Mintoth—if they even finished the journey to Nyth Uchel.”

“Are you sure, Adonia? It will be arduous and quite possibly dangerous.”
Fleur's delicate features knit with concern.

Adonia met Fleur’s eyes. She would miss the young queen. Other than Sophi
DeStroia, her former flight leader, this was her only woman friend—well, actually, her
only
friend in Sylvan Mintoth—but this opportunity was unprecedented. “My Queen, I was medica and First Arrow of Falcon Flight. I am a skilled archer and highly trained in mounted combat. We of the desert-dwelling Oshtesh fought in the last Haarb battle of Vergaza alongside several of those in this chamber. I have known the hard life of the arid wastelands and have traveled the long road from
Sh’r Un Kree
to Sylvan Mintoth. I am not afraid of the danger or the hardship. If Prince DeHelios will have me, I want to go.” Adonia felt the weight of Hel’s perusal and turned to face him. After a long, anxious moment watching him silently evaluate her, he lifted his chin and brought it down decisively.

“
Yes. I will have you.”

The
peculiar, slow twist Hel gave to his words made Adonia wonder if he intended another meaning, but she shook the thought away as ridiculous. He couldn’t want her
that
way. No man had wanted her
that
way … not even Klaran. Klaran’s damning words rang in her memory as clearly as if her lover had spoken them yesterday instead of almost two years ago.

“
What is it you don’t understand? I’m done with you. You got me into service with Ducca DeStroia and out of Sh’r Un Kree—for that, I thank you. But, did you seriously expect me to stay with you when I had a choice? There is nothing womanly about you. From your body to your soul, you are a hard creature.”
Her former intended’s furiously hurled words had stripped her soul bare and the lush-figured, flagrantly-accessible female who’d replaced Adonia in his arms had loosed the killing shot.
“No man wants between the legs of a gawky, stick figure reeking of some vile concoction.”

Adonia had fled to Sylvan Mintoth under the guise of advancing her medical knowledge.
The compassion in Eric and Sophi DeStroia’s eyes when they released her from their service had been the ultimate humiliation.

“
Lord Ramsey, I would like you to go with Adonia.” Fleur glanced across the room to Ramsey DeKieran, and Adonia disguised a laugh with a cough when he abruptly straightened after a hard poke from his wife. While the rest of the party sat in the comfortable sofas and chairs around Ari’s office, DeKieran and his new wife had remained lounging, side-by-side, against the wall by the door. Adonia had caught the intense stares and occasional murmurs Ram and Steffania had exchanged throughout the past hour. From the blush that crept up Steffania’s cheeks when Ramsey fingered her exquisite choker of beaten gold, Adonia doubted that either had heard much of what had transpired in the last few minutes.

“
Huh? What? Um, pardon me, Ma’am. I didn’t catch what you said.”

From the m
ischief in Fleur’s eyes, Adonia revised her assumption. Perhaps she was
not
the only one to catch their interchange of heated looks and whispers. “I wish you to accompany Adonia to
Nyth Uchel
and stay until she is ready to return. She will need an escort home, and I don’t want her dependent upon Prince DeHelios or his people to provide one.”

Fleur
’s gaze returned to Hel. “No disrespect intended, but should Adonia wish to leave at any time, I want her free to do so.” The queen’s gaze then found Adonia. “And Adonia, while you are most capable, you will travel through country with unknown dangers. It will ease my heart to know you have a strong blade at your side.”

“So, Lord Ramsey? Will you go?”

“To
Nyth Uchel
?” Ram blinked several times. “With
him
?”

Hel looked affronted
. Doral laughed softly and then murmured something to Ari and a grin split the High Lord’s solemn face.
Adonia would give anything to know what Doral had said.

Steffania whispered something to Lord DeKieran, and he performed a sketchy bow. “Ah, if you ask it, Ma’am.” An expression of disgust flashed across Ramsey’s face and, with hands on hips, he turned to Hel. “I suppose you want your horse back.”

~
~ ~

Adonia
could see the stars dotting the night sky through the windows of the sitting area in her rooms.
Diaman
crystal globes illuminated the spacious accommodations and a bronze brazier filled with glowing crystals radiated heat enough to warm the area twice over. A small leather duffle sat in one of the chairs. It had taken little time to pack the few possessions she owned—a medica’s robe and two changes of underclothing, a hairbrush and some ties to bind her hair. Her closet contained many rich articles of clothing from the queen, but Adonia had never considered them more than loans. Her medicines took far longer, and she knelt on the floor as, for a third time, she ran through the inventory of medicinal herbs and compounds she intended to take. A sharp rap on her door jerked her upright. Who? At this advanced hour? Had someone fallen sick? She opened the door and drew back in surprise.

“High Lord! Come in, come in.”

Ari entered with a bundle of plush black fur in his arms and stopped in the middle of her room. “We want you to have this.” He held up the fur and the glorious item unfurled. Its silky hairs reflected the light in a thousand blue-black sparkling glitters.

Adonia exclaimed in
wonder, “Mynx! By the Mother, I have never seen an entire garment of it.” Ari held out a full-length coat of the exotic alien fur. “Sir! This fur is brought from off-world. One tiny
pelt
is impossibly expensive—to have an entire coat! It is far too valuable. I cannot take this.”

Ari crossed behind her and placed the coat on her shoulders. The
gossamer fur waved from just the passage of her breath across it.

“Put it on. Let me see if it will fit.”

Adonia reluctantly put her arms into the sleeves and allowed Ari to snug the coat up to her neck and fasten the clips that held it closed—then he stood back and observed her. “Good. It is not too long. The shoulders are big, but that will allow for extra layers underneath.”

She laughed at the
four inches extending beyond her fingertips. “I suppose I could cuff them.” Adonia held her hands to her face and nestled her nose and cheeks into the thick, black pile. She luxuriated in its extraordinary softness and then raised her face with a sigh. “Sir, I cannot accept this. This is a garment for heads of state—or those with enough money to buy planets. While I appreciate the queen’s generosity, I cannot take it.”

“It’s not from the queen.” The High Lord smiled
, and his expression softened to one of pleasure. “I gave it as a gift to Doral. Since he is going nowhere for many months, he wants you to have it. He says you suffer from the cold more than most.” Ari laughed at her expression. “The things he notices amaze me, also. If nothing else, consider it a gift of thanks for your tender care of our queen. She values your friendship. Because of her position, it is hard for her to have true friends. She counts you among the few.” Adonia dropped her gaze and looked away, uncertain what to do. Ari snorted in mock irritation. “If you won’t take it,
you
will have to return it to Doral. I don’t dare tell him I failed in his errand.” Ari leaned over and whispered, “He’s a scary man. I fear to cross him.”

Recognizing a blatant lie
—Doral might be a
scary man
, but Ari crossed him with impunity all the time—Adonia addressed him with skeptical eyes. Of their own volition, her palms stroked the silky fur and her fingers sank into its thick pelt. In this garment, she felt distinguished, like royalty, and it would be so
warm
. Nothing she owned approached it on any level. With a heavy sigh, wishing she weren’t so weak, she surrendered to the temptation. “Thank Segundo DeLorion for me. Tell him that I’ll borrow it and return it when I come back.”

The High Lord’s smile left his face
, and he studied her in silence for a long moment. “
If
you come back. DeHelios needs a wife and, from the way he watches you, I shouldn’t be surprised if he intends to keep you.”

Adonia’s eyes widened. “He is highborn
, a prince of the first noble House of Verdantia. I’m an ordinary Oshtesh woman from the desert. He would never consider me for a wife.”

The High Lord’s eyes lingered on her.
He wore the strangest smile on his handsome face. “Do you
really
regard yourself as commonplace?” But before Adonia could summon the courage to ask him what
that
cryptic comment meant, he bowed, wished her, “Safe journey,” and left.

As she stroked the luxurious fur
, Adonia considered his remark. She’d always taken comfort from the thought she was a common desert woman. She’d never questioned the rightness of her way of life with the Oshtesh until her encounter with Doral’s sister, Sophi, and Sophi’s now-husband, Eric DeStroia. After the cataclysmic events surrounding the battle of Vergaza, Adonia had realized prejudice and ignorance warped much of what she’d been taught growing up.