Unlocking Void (Book 3) (3 page)

Chapter 3

“I do not have time to sit for a portrait,” Gabriel stated as he strode the halls with Councilman Galloway. “I have a mountain of books to read.”

“It is customary t’ have one painted in the first few months of your rule,” Galloway replied with a matter-of-fact tone. Dressed in a blue velvet coat belted in leather, he had a matching hat that sloped to one side. “I already have an artist set up in your sitting room.”

‘What you mean to say is you want a portrait painted now because you do not think I will live to see the next year.’
“I was planning to go to Anatoly this afternoon.”

“Humor me.”

“Can I at least be painted reading?”

“No, but I will have someone hold a book open, so you can read while he sketches.”

“Very well,” Gabriel sighed. “When will I be permitted to wear hats as ridiculous as yours?”

“My Head Mage, you could not pull the look off.”

They made their way to Gabriel’s quarters, finding Secondhand Lael behind his desk in the anteroom as always. The circular chamber was made of dark wood and covered floor to ceiling with books, relics, and portraits of previous Head Mages. In the center sat Lael’s mahogany desk neatly organized. He stood and gave Gabriel a nod.

“Mage Shayleen made a marvelous discovery,” he said and opened a palm to gesture behind them. A boy-slender girl stepped from a set of books on the wall and gave Gabriel a beaming smile. The Arconian had agreed to accompany Gabriel in order to better learn his language and to study in Madison Library. In the past months, she had blossomed into an astute girl with a knack for speed reading. An Anomaly, a Mage born to a family of non-Mages, she and Gabriel shared a title.

“I am surprised you are not covered in paper cuts and dust,” Gabriel smiled, extending a hand to kiss hers.

She tittered. “I found the pattern you have been questing for; the shift-pattern.” She unfurled a rolled scroll. Sketched in precise images was the traveling pattern. Gabriel beamed as he took it up and raced over the pictures.

“This is brilliant; well done, Shayleen.”

She grinned and gave him a small curtsey, and Galloway expertly steered him towards the sitting room.

Robyn twirled the ring on her finger as she listened patiently to Ellian her palace keeper, but her thoughts were elsewhere. Gabriel fashioned the ring to spin an interlocking pattern that would summon him were she in danger. She seriously considered using it. It had been days since she spoke with Aisling about the state of her silver mines, and still nothing from Gabriel.

“I have sent some of the kitchen staff home for the winter, and they will remain until spring when they can sow their fields and….”

The guard at the door straightened, the first sign someone was in the hallway, and Robyn eagerly—but collectedly—glanced at the door. Gabriel never knocked, so if the door burst open, it was him. He was bound to be skewered by her guards at some point.

The door flew open, and the guard grabbed his halberd but paused when he saw white. Gabriel strode in, a beaming smile on his perfect face, swathed in white and silver like a skyward star. Robyn rushed to meet him, embracing him tightly and kissing his cheek. “You stayed away too long.”

“I know,” he agreed and released her. He looked drawn around his eyes, but his smile was genuine.

“How long can you stay?”

“Until tomorrow morning, unless I am summoned back.”

She grabbed his hands, noting the sliver-thin rings he now wore. A few on each hand, each one linked to a ward in Castle Jaden.

“Greetings, Mistress Ellian, I fear I have interrupted you.”

Ellian stood, a stout older woman with a perpetually intense gaze. “No interruption, Head Mage. I will leave you two be. Mistress Marya will be so happy to hear you are staying for meals. I will go tell her forthwith.”

Knowingly, the guard followed and stood outside the door. There was no one safer for his Queen to be with.

“Are you well? It’s been weeks since I’ve seen you,” Robyn said, adapting her old contractions.

“It’s a lot of work leading a race of people,” he chuckled and tossed his black waves out of his eyes. “So many meetings with so many people that want so much from me.”

“And I thought I was the only one who felt that way.” He smiled but didn’t mean it. She gripped his hand tightly. “How are you, really?”

He shrugged his shoulder. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You endured a great taxing ordeal, and it’s only natural to still feel the effects of it.”

He looked away. “I still don’t know what you mean.”

She sighed inwardly. Rather than prodding, she stood and filled two goblets of hot wine from the fire.

“Don’t you have servants to do that?” he grinned.

“I cooked in a more primitive range for two years—I think I can handle pouring wine.” She handed him a mug and sat close beside him.

“Do you ever…ever wish we had never left that cottage?” he asked quietly.

She saw the regret in his eyes. “All the time. But we have duties elsewhere.” So much of her wished she could wake up every morning and have him all to herself like she used to. She wished even more to keep him beside her. “Speaking of which, I have a favor to ask of you.”

He raised a brow as he sipped his wine.

“The Rincarel Silver Mine is empty.”

He made a thoughtful humming noise. “I know a pattern to find silver. I’ll strike another load.”

“I couldn’t thank you enough.”

“You could marry me.”

For one moment so fleeting she may have imagined it, she felt unsettled at the idea. “When?”

“When I kill Ryker and everyone he’s raised from the dead.”

“You have no timeline for that. I could be old and barren by then.”

“Yes, but I need to focus on fighting and not playtime with Robyn.” If he noticed her blush, he did not say. They sat in silence as he stared into the fire. She saw his eyes glaze over, an increasing occurrence. She poked him to bring him back to the real world. Gabriel’s eyes flickered, and he said, “Do you know how much granite the City has right now?”

She sputtered for a moment. “Why—yes; 100,000 tons.”

He frowned and flicked his fingers, counting. “That should be enough.” He downed his mug and stood. “Let me take Lace into the mountains and see if we can find any silver before supper.”

She grabbed his wrist, gripping tightly, and she pulled herself up. But her ascent was abruptly stopped when Gabriel wrenched his arm away with a sudden gasp. She fell back into the couch wide eyed and astonished. Gabriel shook his hand and paced a single tight circle as he sucked air through his teeth. Remorse painted over his face.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Are you wounded?” she asked.

“No, no it’s not that.”

She stood swiftly with a concerned expression. “What is it then?”

He extended a flat hand as if silencing her. “It’s nothing.” He closed his eyes and swallowed. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

With that, he strode from the room.

Lace looked much better than she had that morning, so Gabriel did not feel as bad taking her into the cold mountains. Thankfully, he returned triumphantly with a chunk of silver from a lode twenty miles south of the Rincarel Mine. Robyn showed no animosity towards his outburst when she saw the glimmering metal. However, she had changed her garments, and the Eagle Crown was on her head when he arrived.

“The Prince of Anatoly arrived in the harbor this morning and requests an audience with me,” she explained as she adjusted the sweeping wings of the crown. A maid fastened a string of pearls around her neck, and Gabriel inwardly shuttered, striking a finger down his own, making sure it was free.

“Would you have me attend?”

“I would.”

He turned to the mirror and straightened his coat. Robyn stood, bathed in a flowing dress of deep copper. She wore it deliberately to match the color of the Eagle Throne with its sweeping wings, giving her the illusion of grandiose majesty. He offered his bent arm to escort her to the throne room, and she took it very gently.

“How is Mage Lace? Aisling told me she is ill?”

“She has been, but I have no idea what ails her. She seems to recover after she has been awake a few hours.” He politely nodded to a passing noble. “I never had tact for sorting out illnesses.” He looked over his shoulder subconsciously, looking for Nolen. Kilkiny Palace made him uneasy, especially with Nolen on the loose. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out, calming his racing heart.

“Looking for Balien? He traveled to the east coast with General Calsifer. They have half the army to liberate the coast from Shalabane settlers.”

“Was that your suggestion or Calsifer’s?”

She looked up with a blank expression. “Mine.” Robyn told Gabriel the story of Calsifer’s wife who had been taken by Shalabane pirates and never found. They lapsed into silence, listening to the swish of her skirts and the tap of his heels.

Aisling waited for them behind the throne, and she met Gabriel with a warm embrace and a quiet chiding before they took their places. Aisling sat to the right of the throne, Gabriel to the left. He held court with her a few times, always on the left of the throne. Every time sent him back to that day when Nolen forced him to lay beside it like an animal to demonstrate Nolen’s power. He stared at the spot and took two silent steps up to it. With a wave from Robyn, guards swung the doors open and admitted the Arconians. A herald announced Prince Virgil of Arconia.

Gabriel remembered the first time a troupe of Arconians glided into the throne room. For a moment he lapsed back to the face of Axa, but quickly shook himself free and watched the procession. This time, thirteen soldiers marched in. Twelve carried large chests supported with shoulder polls, flanking a tawny-haired man in the center. They all wore black and moved soundlessly. Their boots were of wrapped canvas rather than leather or wood, and each had an empty sheath on their hip.

At an unseen command, the twelve men stopped and simultaneously set their burdens down with practiced accuracy. The man in the center took four more steps and halted, bowing his head and falling to a knee. Silence fell.

“Rise, Prince Virgil,” Robyn said with a tone of authority engrained into her from her time in the palace as a child.

The tawny-haired man rose smoothly and took a wide leg stance, clasping his arms behind him in a soldier’s posture. He was of average height but built like a tree with a broad chest, large legs and arms, and a thick neck. In his stance it looked like he might rip his uniform across the chest if he inhaled too deeply. “Head Mage, Your Grace, it is a great honor to be admitted into your presence.” His accent was slight, alighting softly on the vowels like Mikelle did. “It was with immeasurable sadness my mother Queen Cathlyn returned to inform us of her damage done to you and your people. My father, brother, and I were grievously wounded by her actions, but she said if we could make retribution, you would reconsider the peace treaty and return your troops to our soil. I come to make that retribution if you would have it.”

He opened a wide palm and extended an arm. The soldiers behind him moved as one and opened the chests. From within sparkled uncut gems, a set of silver-and-gold dining ware from another, cut gems, jewelry, pearls of every color, gilded belts and slippers, vases, ceramic jugs of wine, and even bolts of brocade and silk.

“I humbly give you these men as well. They are from my personal guard, and I trust each man with my life. I know they will devote their lives to your safety. Lastly, I give you myself.”

Gabriel could not help but notice the way Robyn tried to hide the grin that tremored her cheeks.

“What will I do with a Prince?” she asked.

“Make me your cupbearer, make me your poison taster, send me to fight your battles, or if you would have my head, send me to the headsman. But if it would please you, take me as your husband.”

Gabriel watched calculatingly. Virgil was the second son of King Victor, so the eldest brother Quinn would take the throne, leaving Virgil without one. Marrying a Queen would make him a King and ally fractured kingdoms.

“You are a gracious man, Prince Virgil, and I gladly accept your gifts and your men. It would be an insult to make you cupbearer and even more so to have you killed for my pride. Your betrothal is an honorable one, but I am betrothed. However, I would be honored to place you and your men in my personal guard.”

“That would make us very glad.”

“I will warn you, the last Prince who crossed me lost his title and his lands. If you or your men do anything to give me pause, my betrothal will personally pull your spine out from your throat.”

Gabriel turned to look at her with a surprised gaze. “I prefer to flay them, actually.”

Virgil’s light eyes flicked back and forth between them. “I—I did not know the Head Mage was the Queen’s betrothal. Then that means you are Mage Gabriel.” Gabriel nodded and Virgil fell to another knee. “I was cut deeply when I learned what our Mages did to you.”