The White Forest (Mages and Kingdoms Book 2) (5 page)

Seth

Seth heard the dips
and swells of Kernan’s voice. He sung quietly but his tone was still powerful and it sent a ripple through him. This was the third time this week.

Kernan had finally been announced at a formal dinner several weeks ago. His political talent did not fail him. Smiles, light debates, and a robust round of singing after dinner went a long way to put him in some of the cabinet and key nobles’ good graces. During the entertainment, Seth noticed Claudia sigh audibly and saw some of the taut muscles in her shoulders relax.

The princess had good reason to be wound up. Seth knew Claudia’s concerns were mounting. Despite her work with Kernan, cabinet meetings only grew increasingly dire with more members falling to dissension and considering Bastair’s arguments. Sir Duncan had the royal guard doubled. He feared a strike while her reign was still weak.

It was when Kernan sang that the worry left her face. She sometimes closed her eyes as she listened or they would lose focus as her gaze was transported to images not in the room. A peace crept into her countenance that was chased away immediately when the singing stopped and she shifted her attention back to the present.

Had he the gift of song, Seth would sing to her every day to bring that peace. But no one could rival Kernan in that talent. Seth had spent many afternoons curled up next to his mother listening to his musical voice.

Seth needed his own peace. His gift was tracking but he couldn’t leave Claudia. Not now, so close to the wedding and with all the turmoil washing over the palace. He found Talon in his quarters and after a quick knock, shut the door behind him.

“I must ask a favor of you, friend,” Seth stated and Talon immediately set down the parchment he was working on and gave the prince his full attention.

“Amelie’s death has been an open wound on my heart and I think I may know what could heal it. But I’ll need your help.”

Talon’s answer was immediate. “Anything.”

“I want to know everything there is to know about the man who took her from me. Finish what she started. Seek out and kill all who aligned with him. I must know that these lands are rid of his poison once and for all.”

“When would you like me to leave?”

“This very day. Go alone. For all the talent in our group, when we tracked him, he was always five steps ahead. I think Amelie’s secretive methods were more efficient.”

Talon’s face crumpled in confusion. “But, Seth. Your wedding.”

Seth smiled sadly. “It is a political wedding, my friend. I care for Claudia. Deeply. But you would not be witnessing a monumental event.”

Talon laid a steady hand on the prince’s shoulder. “I will do as you ask. And I would ask something of you in return.”

“Of course. What is it?”

“I will close this wound for you. But please look at Claudia again with new eyes. Allow yourself to feel. This need not be a union of politics alone.” He licked his lips nervously before adding quietly, “Feel no guilt in it. She would want nothing more than your happiness.”

Prince Seth’s jaw clenched and he stared straight ahead. “Take your leave now, Talon.”

Talon gave a deep nod. “As you wish.”

Amelie

Lovers. Amelie and Simon
were to be lovers. Simon fabricated a love at first sight meeting between them as reason for hesitating to bring her straight to the White Palace.

"It would benefit us both greatly if the reason weren't your unusual power. Love can make a man act out of character and it is the only act of defiance that could be excused without her losing ground."

“Why do we not just blame my persuasive power?” Amelie asked. “Spare you entirely?”

“Because I’m trying to keep you alive,” Simon replied in a hard voice.

They did not travel secretly as she would have expected. She had been ready. She was so used to covert journeys, she'd prepared herself mentally to fall back into those habits as she packed a few meager things in a knapsack, calling on her skills as a spy to come back to her.

Instead, they rode in broad daylight at a languid pace, knocking on doors each evening in the homes and cabins of mages Simon considered friends. He explained his reasoning as they set out that first day, their horses' hooves clomping loudly through crowded towns.

"We have nothing to hide. If our story is to work, my friends must witness our relationship in case testimony is needed."

At night they shared a room. Simon slept on the hard, stone floor of whatever house they were occupying and Amelie guiltily lay upon goose-feathered mattresses.

"I'm no stranger to hard travel," she hissed one night. "A stone floor won't break me. We can at least take turns."

"I'm no stranger to gentlemanly behavior," was his no nonsense reply and he'd hear no more of it.

It was on the fifth day on their route that they were finally intercepted by the White Guard. The village was unusually quiet, people scurrying about their morning and casting each other furtive glances. Simon was saddling the second horse when his shoulders stiffened. He turned slightly to Amelie and said softly, "They are here. Discard your necklace."

Amelie's hand flew up to the necklace Henna had crafted for her. The pinch of curiosity as to why she must get rid of it caused her eyebrows to furrow together, but she quickly obeyed, pulling it over her head and tossing it into the nearby brush.

He approached her and bent to put his mouth near her ear. "They will detect the amber. Henna's work is well known," he whispered and then brushed her cheek with his lips before drawing away slowly. His eyes didn't leave hers as horses surrounded them and Amelie, with a jolt of fear seizing her muscles, kept her eyes trained on him as well.

Simon waited a long moment before he tore his gaze away and surveyed the new arrivals.

"John. Rolf. Nevis. Harmon. Good morning to you fellows."

Amelie finally raised her eyes, letting them fall on each of the men. Her hand twitched near the hilt of her dagger. Her persuasion began to pulse. Years of defensive reactions swarmed her involuntarily.

The last one Simon had greeted, Harmon, reeled back, taking his horse with him and causing the animal to rise up on two legs. He kept his saddle and steadied the horse, all the while keeping his narrowed eyes trained on her.

"Quickly," he ordered. "The bracelets. I sense persuasion and it's strong."

The first two men swung down and each took a strong hold of Amelie's arms. She willed herself to remain still. Her head swinging back to connect with the shorter one's nose, a side kick into the gut of the other, that is what her body screamed to do. She had to swallow it down. Simon had told her not to fight the guard.

The third one came forward holding two ivory clamps. He fastened them on each of her wrists. They shimmered in the morning sun and looked like beautiful pieces of jewelry any of the royals back home in the kingdoms would wear proudly. The burn was only slight, reminding Amelie of their purpose. The guard whispered something foreign to her while smoothing a hand over the line where the bracelet connected and the break vanished, leaving only a smooth surface all the way around.

The men, including Simon, let out a sigh and Amelie could see some clarity returning to their eyes.

"Unbreakable," the guard said. "Magically adhered. Do not try and remove them or you might rub off the magic holding back the burn of the amber. The ivory allows small amounts of magic to be used and if you tamper with it, it will become unstable. The amber will burn through it. The amber is pure and will melt off your hands." He mounted his horse. "I only caution on this once. The next time I pay attention to your bands will be to wrap the bloody stumps on your arms."

The White Guard was stiff and impassive. Besides the small nod they gave Simon, no more gestures were offered and very little was spoken. Fluidly, they formed a border around Amelie and Simon, escorting them north out of the village. Once clear of the dwellings, the tallest one whom Simon called John and was the apparent leader by the way the other three quietly deferred to him, glanced back at Simon and said, "You are swifter than we are. Can you carry us all?"

"You and the horses if two of you help," he replied. He began those melodic whispers that Amelie recognized as spell casting with its clicks and breathy vibrations that she couldn't figure out how to recreate in her own mouth. After a few repetitions, John and Harmon chimed in, their whispers rising together. Gold, shimmering light that resembled particles of dust swirled around her and then they were off. Flying so fast, the surroundings were a blaze of green and brown blurs and the wind pulled frantically at her hair. It was like her arrival here, her golden run streaking through the forest only now she was on horseback and gripping the pommel. A wild grin stole across her face.

It seemed the sensation lasted a few short minutes but as the whispers stopped and the wind stilled around them, she saw the sun dripping orange and low on the cusp of the tree line. A day's travel in mere moments of time.

Even John broke his stoic expression to smile in awe at Simon. "It never amazes me, you gatekeepers. Your runs are always by far the fastest."

Simon’s breaths were rapid and shallow. He shivered. He was cold. Amelie had a feeling he spent more than he normally did on his magic.

After a few turns on the road, the trees cleared to give way to Amelie's first glimpse of the White Palace. The vision stunned her senses and she gave a small gasp at it all. Bright ivory glimmered from two towers on either side of a massive drawbridge. Lilacs perfumed the air and she realized a sea of them surrounded the castle in a moat in lieu of water . Even the nature in this place sang together to form a soothing melody. The birds cooperated with the bullfrogs and the breeze to orchestrate an opus that slipped under Amelie's skin and made her drunk with peace.

"I know," John said, taking in her hooded eyes and small smile. "It overwhelms me too every time I've spent any length of time away."

Simon leaned in closer. Again, masking his whispered warning as affection from a lover, he said quietly, "Her battle strategy is to lull mages into a sense of serenity. Let it shine on your face, but keep alert."

The warning did the trick as Amelie pushed against the music and the smells clouding her mind and blinked against the glimmer of the ivory. She kept the smile plastered on her face.

"It's beautiful," she said loud enough for the entire party to hear.

"Come," said John. "I will take you to her. She has requested to see you immediately upon our arrival."

Simon clicked his tongue to signal his horse to follow but John held up a warning palm. "Not you, Gatekeeper. She wishes to see this one alone."

Amelie

The guards led Amelie
down a corridor that did its part in continuing the opulent theme of the castle.

The door to the room was nondescript. Had the guards not opened it and waved her through, she’d have paid it little notice. They positioned themselves just inside the door, stoic statues of protection.

Inside, a woman was talking in quiet tones with a man, her head bent towards his in interest.

She could see her suddenly smile in response to something he said. Her laugh was light and offered Amelie the first sound of her voice. Melodic and crystals. The woman touched his cheek and then began to walk with him toward the door.

“Do keep me apprised on her condition,” Amelie could hear her say as they drew near. “I miss your wife’s company dearly and shall not be at ease until she can once again visit me.”

“I’ll be sure to tell her. It will hasten her healing, I’m sure,” he responded. He was shorter than Amelie. He was an older gentleman with a pronounced curvature in his back and dark sandy hair. Perhaps in his youth and straightened the two would’ve met eye to eye. As it was, he turned his head up towards her as he passed and nodded acknowledgement before leaving the quarters.

The woman turned her full attention on Amelie, striking the princess with her powerful presence. Young, milky skin, brilliant white hair, and black eyes which were almost purple in the light captivated Amelie’s attention. She didn’t know if she should curtsey. Years removed from royalty and unfamiliar with mage customs, Amelie tried not to falter as she offered a deep head bow.

“You are the half human,” the queen observed. It was not unkind but factual.

“I am,” Amelie replied. “Amelie.”

“I am Queen Trinity of the White Forest. But I suspect you know that since you have entered into my realm.”

“I do.” Amelie hesitated before adding, “You will have to forgive me. I have no knowledge on how to address the royalty of this realm.”

Queen Trinity smiled darkly. “Of course you don’t. Had Simon had any intention of bringing you to the castle as he should, he would have informed you of this.” Amelie didn’t respond to the comment and the queen gave her a knowing look. “As soon as I learned of your existence, I knew it was Simon who let you into the White Forest. I have but four gatekeepers and the other three are accounted for. As for the address, it is much like your human world, you can call me Your Majesty.”

“Your Majesty, I-“

“Sit.” Queen Trinity cut Amelie off and pointed to a nearby chair. It sat with its mate, tall and soft blue with a small wooden table in between. “You can plead a case for your friend at a later time. I have questions that need answers and they take precedence.” 

Amelie did as she was told. She kept her nerves thrumming beneath her skin under a composed facade. It would do Simon and Henna and all the mages they hid no good if she broke under the queen’s stare and revealed those truths.

“When did you arrive in my realm?”

Amelie hesitated. She and Simon neglected to discuss this. Not wanting to get him in trouble in case he was posed the same question, she went with the truth and hoped he would do the same.

“A year.”

If the queen was surprised by this, she didn’t betray it in her expression. Instead, she jumped to the next question.

“Who is your father?”

Amelie suppressed a sigh of relief. Her own background was easier to navigate. Those questions she could dance around since their discovery would not harm her new friends. “I never knew him. He worked in the Draeden palace as a cook I’m told.”

“And your mother?”

“She passed.”

“Well, one of them was a mage.”

“It appears so, for here I am.” Amelie noted Queen Trinity’s change in demeanor. Her posture stiffened and her eyes narrowed slightly as she realized Amelie was more clever and more intentional than a wandering, lost half human girl. A challenge emerged in her expression and Amelie stifled her instinct to inject fire into her words in response. She was prepared for this. “I nearly died,” she said down-casting her glance. It gave her words vulnerability. “I thought I had crossed over but I suppose I hadn’t. Not completely. I saw your gatekeeper in the middle realm. Since then, the pull of the mountains was overwhelmingly strong. One day, I had the instinct to run towards it. So I did.”

Queen Trinity’s face relaxed slightly. Amelie pressed on before she could pose another question. “He was caught off guard apparently. Said I nearly ran myself into a tree with all my inexperience.” The honest bits of her account wrapped Amelie’s half-truths in sincerity and dissipated the last of Queen Trinity’s suspicions.

“I haven’t seen your kind for many years,” the queen said, leaning back into her chair. “Not since the separation of mages and humans. Those who’ve caught a hint of your presence in the White Court are intrigued.”

“I am no more special than any other mage, perhaps even less so since I am not full blooded.”

“It is your deficit that makes you so interesting, Amelie. It would not do to have you simply imprisoned, exiled, or even eliminated.” Amelie knew from previous accounts the coldness in which the queen disposed of life but for the sake of keeping up appearances, Amelie recoiled at the words. Queen Trinity stretched her lips into a wide, disarming smile. “In the past everything was done to separate humans and mages, even the most drastic of measures. But it has been a long time since I was faced with this type of merge and I do believe drastic measures are not needed. The opinions of the other mages are not that of disgust but instead they are curiously protective. A lost sheep returning home.”

The queen rose and walked around the chairs. She placed a hand on Amelie’s shoulder.

“There is no middle ground,” she said in a firm voice. “The separation was a necessary step and will be upheld. While I’ll overlook your gross disregard for that principle in your very existence…” she paused to pull a string on the wall closest to them that no doubt rang a bell somewhere in the castle. “…you will need to choose a side. There’s no teetering back and forth between the two, you see.”

Amelie nodded slowly. “I understand,” she said though she didn’t. She was here. How more solidly could she choose?

Queen Trinity beamed. “Wonderful. It’s settled then. You will remain here in the castle so to better immerse yourself in our ways. We have little time to prepare before the White Court Ball.”

“The White Court Ball,” Amelie repeated slowly, wondering if she should pretend to know what it was. It didn’t matter. The queen was observant and picked up immediately on Amelie’s ignorance.

“An annual gathering of mages at the castle,” she explained. “To pair off. To choose a mate. For marriage. Your attachment to my gatekeeper is noted, but in order to make a proper decision, I think it best you attend the event.” The queen kept a steady eye on Amelie, gaging her reaction. Amelie calmly smoothed the fabric of her riding pants to help steady her hands.

“Perhaps it's a bit soon-"

"I think a year in my kingdom is sufficient time to decide if you like our ways, our customs, our rules," Queen Trinity interrupted. "I'm a kind woman, Amelie. I will give you the chance to acclimate by adopting our way of life fully."

Amelie did not miss the venom dripping over the queen's use of the word kind. Her invitation was a threat. Amelie couldn't be certain how much she'd forfeit in rejecting it but it was painfully clear the price would be steep.

"I should be so honored to participate," Amelie lied smoothly.

The queen pasted on her broad smile once again. "I am pleased to have you join the White Court," she lied in return.